


When She Left

by Junigatsu84



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abandonment, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Artist Will Byers, Bisexual Mike Wheeler, Byeler - Freeform, Comforting, Dark, Depression, Gay, Gay Will Byers, M/M, Mike Wheeler Misses Eleven | Jane Hopper, One-Sided Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Post-Break Up, Running Away, Sad Mike, Sad Will Byers, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Will Byers Needs a Hug, byler, designated driver, hawkins senior year, mike wheeler needs a hug, otp, senior year at hawkins, will byers driving, will comforts Mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-06 13:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 69,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14058264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junigatsu84/pseuds/Junigatsu84
Summary: He laid under the covers, the words from her letter memorized and repeating like a broken letter in his head: "I’m sorry that I didn’t wait for you to wake up before telling you this...but if I had, I don’t think I could have left."Life in many ways stops for Mike Wheeler.  The only comfort he finds is in the arms of his best friend, and at the bottom of a bottle.Trigger Warning:  This is a dark fic, with scenes involving underage drinking, alcoholism, and unhealthy relationships.





	1. The Letter

Chapter One: The Letter

Mike laid down under the covers in a catatonic state. The letter was discarded on the floor. He had read it so many times, he had it memorized. The first time he read it, confusion sat on his brow. 

“Dear Mike,  
I’m sorry that I didn’t wait for you to wake up before telling you this…”

The second time he read it, in disbelief. He had to have misread.

“...but if I had, I don’t think I could have left. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do…”

When he read it the third time, the tears had made it hard to see the words at all. 

“But I can’t stay in Hawkins anymore. I can’t pretend to be normal anymore. I feel like a part of me is rotting from the inside out.”

The fourth time, he read it, trying to rile himself to anger, but all he felt was emptiness.

“My anger has been growing everyday. I have tried so many times to quiet it. But it seems like it only ends in me lashing out at someone: Hopper, Will, Mrs. Byers, and you. Especially you.”

The fifth time he read it, he started memorizing each sentence. Cradling the words. They were her last to him. They felt like the last. 

“I’m so sorry for what I did and for what I am doing. I love you more than words could ever say. But if I stay here I will only hurt you more than I already have. You never wanted to believe I was a monster but I am. It’s who I have to be to defeat him. Please don’t chase after me. You will not like who you find.”

He knew, this was goodbye. She wasn’t coming back.

“There is a part of me that will always love you. I’m so sorry.

El.”

There was nothing else to do. Mike dropped the letter and climbed into bed, burrowing his head under the covers, hoping this was a nightmare and willing it to end.


	2. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Karen calls the only person she think could possibly help Mike: Will, or rather his mother, Joyce Byers.

Mrs. Wheeler closed the door to Mike’s room, holding a cold and untouched bowl of soup. She sighed deeply. She had no idea what to do. Her poor boy couldn’t seem to catch a break: grieving the loss of a friend, only to have him found, making friends with a girl wanted by the FBI for God-knows what reason, only to lose her, and having a hellacious year following that. 

The past two years he had seemed to finally, finally, find a sense of normalcy. His grades had come back up. He had gotten a girlfriend, she was quiet and strange, but it was normal. Then, she runs away. Karen didn’t know what else she could do or say. His life was so far removed from other children’s. She had no one to talk to about it. No one she could talk to… well… except maybe Joyce. But, God, she was so hard to talk to most times. 

She never would have talked to Joyce when she was in high school. They ran in completely different social circles. Karen was part of the yearbook club and was the school treasurer. Joyce was more likely to cut classes and get caught smoking. Yet, here she was dialling her number. Motherhood could bring the strangest people together.   
_____________________________________

It had been a complete surprise to see Mike come home from his first day of Kindergarten going on and on about a new friend he had made. 

Normally, Mike was rambunctious and always getting into something, but when she dropped him off in his classroom, she could see him clam up. It was like he was a different kid. She saw the other boys exploring and playing around the room but Mike had just taken his bear out of his backpack, went to the book area and started reading (well, not reading per say, but looking through the books). Karen had been about to go over but his teacher just told her that each child acclimated to the classroom in their own way and to let Mike adjust in his own time. 

Karen went to the car in tears. She did her best to busy herself, though she fretted all day. And yet, when she picked him up, she was relieved to see he was all smiles. He had made a friend named Will. He asked if he could invite him over to play. 

Karen liked Will right away. 

The next day, she went to the school early, hoping to meet Will and his mother so they could arrange a playdate. 

She waited by the doors for the school to open when Mike started pulling her hand towards this little boy with big brown eyes, who had, in one arm two dinosaurs and his other hand was held by none other than Joyce Byers. The shock was probably evident on Karen’s face, though she did her best to hide it. Oh, dear Lord, the son of Joyce Byers? What kind of havok would this child reap? What kind of influence would he be?

Then, Will ran up to Mike and gave him a dinosaur and in a tiny, sweet voice he said, “I brought you one of my dinosaurs so we can play together!” Instantly, Karen’s heart melted. She scolded herself for her misjudgement. So she put on her friendly, mommy-club face, swallowed her pride, and said hello to Joyce. 

Now, years later, their boys remained best friends, and she remained just as distant from Joyce as that first motherly meeting. They had talked before but it always felt formal. She wanted to make an effort, really she did, but Joyce was so hard to connect to. They were such different people. Joyce was loud and vibrant. Her relationship with Lonnie was like sparks one moment and fire the next. While Karen and Ted’s relationship was like a candle, slowly burning smaller, dimly lit but at least consistent. The few times she had ever talked to Joyce about Ted, Joyce would seem to get frustrated at his treatment of her. She would make ludicrous suggestions like, “If he complains about your cooking, tell him he can cook instead!” 

Joyce had a completely different perspective. She worked, even before she and Lonnie separated. Although she had two boys to raise and a husband, she chose to work. 

Joyce said before, laughingly, “I don’t ever want to completely rely on a man. I will not be at their beck and call.” She was independent and a small part of Karen desperately wanted to admire it. But that woman made independence look so chaotic.   
__________________________________________

Karen waited, listening to the phone ringing. It went to the answering machine. 

“Hi Joyce, it’s Karen. Karen Wheeler,” why did she still have to distinguish after all these years? Why couldn’t they have been as close as her boys were? “Mike is… well… he… he’s upset… I-” She heard the receiver click and Joyce’s voice. 

“Hi, Karen. I’m here.”

“Hi, Joyce. Thank you for picking up.” Why on earth didn’t the woman just answer her phone when it rang like a normal person?

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m okay, but Mike is… inconsolable. His girlfriend has just run away. I’ve tried to talk to him but he has just been in his room all day. I’m worried about him…”

Joyce’s voice dripped with sympathy. This woman was all emotion. “Poor Mike… He loved her so much…”

“I know.” She said this part almost defensively. She could hear it in Joyce’s voice: she knew this girl. She knew how in love Mike was. She hated how Joyce’s house had become a sanctuary for Mike over the past few years. It had once been Karen’s home that had been the safe house. Mike held the Dungeons and Dragons game in her basement. When Lonnie had left, she had let Will sleep over nearly every weekend so that Joyce could work and he wouldn’t have to stay home alone (well, with his brother that is). But sometime following a year after Will came back, things started to change. Mike closed himself up a lot during that year and he found more excuses to stay away, to go to his other friends’ houses. 

Karen’s tone was not lost on Joyce, she trod carefully, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Would you just let Will know that… I think Mike would really like to see him.” She felt so awkward asking this. Why hadn’t she called Dustin’s mom, Claudia, instead? Or perhaps Mrs. Sinclair?

“Absolutely. We heard the news this morning, he just left a few minutes ago.”

Oh thank God for that boy. Her heart melted again. This was exactly why she called Joyce. Although she had a hundred reasons to avoid Joyce at all costs, there was one reason she didn’t: 

Will.


	3. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Will visits and offers what little comfort he can.

Will pulled his car into the driveway. He had inherited the car from his brother when he went away to NYU. It was beat to shit but it was his. Everyone would pile in the backseat and they’d drive to ridiculous places just to get out of the town: a diner two towns away, a forgotten lake near a railway where train cars were abandoned and left to grow wild in the weeds. Their days were spent gaining new freckles, stories, and inside jokes. 

But those days were over now. 

Will shoved the car door closed and walked up the steps. What was he supposed to say? What could be said? He wished he had come up with something more in the car. 

Holly opened the door. “Hi, Will.” 

“Hey, Holly. How are you?”

She shrugged, “Pretty okay. But Mike’s a mess. His girlfriend left him.”

“I heard. That’s why I’m here. Can I come in?”

She nodded and opened the door wider. 

He stepped in and she offered to take his coat. He smirked. “I got it, Holly. Thanks.” 

Will hung up his coat and scarf. 

Holly said, “I’m glad you’re here. Mike might wake up now. I’ve never seen him so sad. Not even when Grandpa died.” She looked horrified for a moment. “Is that bad to say?” 

Will couldn’t believe how much she was growing up. “No, it’s okay. It’s an observation. Your grandpa was sick for a while. This is a different kind of sadness.”

“Because it was a surprise?”

“Sudden. Yes. It was sudden.”

Holly was quiet. “I liked her…”

“I did, too.”

Karen came out from her room with a load of laundry, “Will?” 

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler.”

She put the laundry down and hugged him. 

“Can I go up and see him?”

“Yeah, he’s in his room.”

He nodded and went up the stairs. It felt strange to go up them so slowly. Whenever he and Mike would go up to his room their feet would pound against the stairs as they took them two at a time. 

He got to Mike’s door and softly knocked. When there was no answer, Will said their old password, “Radagast.”

There was a quiet, “Will?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Can I come in?”

He heard a shuffling of blankets and the floor creak before the door opened. 

Mike’s eyes were red and puffy, as was his nose and lips. His hair was a mangled, disheveled mop. But what worried Will was the hollowness in his eyes, like the light had left him. 

There were no words. He simply put his arms around his friend, who was nearly a head taller, still. Mike seemed to shrink into the hug like he was withering and would crumble if Will wasn’t holding him. He could feel his friend suppressing a sob. 

“I’m so sorry, Mike.”

He felt Mike grip his shirt tighter, but then he abruptly pulled away, covering his face with one hand and holding the door knob with the other. Will stepped in and Mike closed the door. 

Mike looked at the note off the floor. He wanted to open up and tell Will everything. But the letter still felt so private. It was her words to him. He couldn’t. Not yet.

Mike asked Will, as they sat on the bed, “How did you find out?”

 

“Hopper came over this morning.”

Mike looked up, concerned, “How is he?”

“Broken.” There was no other word to describe him. The way Hopper held his mom, it was like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning. “He has just lost his other daughter. I never saw a grown man cry like that. He was…” Will sighed. “I want to hate her for doing this to everyone. To you, to Hopper, and to me… You told me once that she just understood things. And she did…so I just don’t get it. Why did she leave? She had to know how much she’d hurt everyone.”

Mike shook his head. “She’d been slipping away for a while… I think that she’s gone looking for him.”

“Not that doctor, right?”

Mike nodded. “The one that kept her in that place, that experimented on her.”

Will’s eyes went wide. “I thought he got killed by the Demogorgon.”

“I did, too. But she told me she saw him… I told her that we should run, find someplace to hide. That we had to lay low until graduation and then we could get out of this town...”

Will’s eyes widened, “You were going to run away with her?”

Mike looked away, “She tried to tell me that she wanted to go after him. I told her that she was building a life here. That he took away her childhood, she shouldn’t let him take away her future. She said he’d come back no matter how much of a low profile she kept. And so I suggested we run. I didn’t know what else to say. I could feel her pulling away. It kept coming up. We kept fighting about it. That’s what we fought about yesterday.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It was my fault. I-I was the one who brought it up. We started fighting and… she told me to leave her alone, but I kept on and she shoved me.”

“Like, ‘power’ shove you?”

Mike nodded. 

“Jesus.”

“It- You know that isn’t like her. She immediately… She just started crying and I tried to go over to her but she just…. Will you should have seen her. I’ve never seen her look so confused and afraid. Like she was scared of herself. So she ran out of the house. That was the last time I saw her. I tried to call her all night… This was my fault.” His voice cracked and he covered his face folding in on himself. 

Will put his hand on his back. “It’s not your fault. We can find her. We can go looking for her. She can’t have gone far. Hopper said he was going to go out and find her. We can join him.”

Mike shook his head, “I want to save her. She’s letting herself become… something else. She knows what she’s giving up. But what was she giving up by staying here? All we did was stop her from using her powers. We all limited her. What could I do or say to convince her to come back?”

“We have to try, Mike.”

Mike nodded. 

“Where would she go?”

“She’s probably going to find Kali first, then she’s going to go after him.” 

“So, we look for Kali, and we’ll find her.”


	4. The Crossed Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Mike, Hopper, and Will find El, and she is less than happy to see them.

Will opened his eyes to see Mike, in his undershirt, holding his sweatshirt against his forehead. There was a strange iron taste in his mouth… blood… What the fuck happened?

Mike was crying. “I’m so sorry, Will. I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

Oh. Right. They found El. No. They found 011. She wasn’t the friend that they knew. Not anymore. Something had changed. She had changed.

__________________________

It had been several days of being on the road with Hopper, following leads, strange anonymous reports that didn’t add up except to those that knew El and Kali. 

They found her in Ohio, in an abandoned car parts factory. 

“Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here!” she said. Something was wrong, distant in her voice.

Hopper had approached her, “El, please. Come back home.”

She shook her head. “Not until all this is done.”

“What is? Until you’ve murdered Bennet?”

“And all those responsible.”

Hopper looked at her, shocked, “Do you know what you’re saying? You’re talking about killing people, Jane.”

“I know I am. I have lived so that I can make sure they never do what they have done to me, Kali, and the others.”

“Others?”

“I’m number 11. Kali and I are the only ones who survived his demented experiments. All the others are buried in Hawkins in unmarked graves. I don’t think he planned on stopping with me either. So I have work to do.” 

Hopper looked horrified, desperate.

She warned, “I told you not to come looking for me.”

He looked at her sadly, “So, the black hole got you, too.”

She blinked and suddenly, she seemed like her old self. “Hopper, I’m so sorry.” For a moment she looked like she was about to break down but she took a breath a closed her eyes and she steadied herself, “You aren’t a black hole. I am.”

Mike stepped in, “El-”

“It’s Jane! And stop, Mike. You have nothing new to say and neither do I. I can’t go back. I can’t pretend he isn’t out there.”

“I’m not asking you to come back. I want to come with you.”

This had made both Hopper and Will freeze.

El shook her head, “You had a life before me. You’ll have a life after me. Don’t throw that away.”

Will turned to his best friend, “Mike, what are you saying?”

“It’s my life, El. I don’t want to live in a future without you, please.” Mike sounded broken. He meant it.

“You hold me back. When I’m with you, I can’t be what I need to be to face Papa.”

“Please, El.” He was getting closer to her, enough to touch her, to pull her into his arms. 

Will’s stomach churned. Call it instinct, but he could sense her powers before it happened. He ran to get to Mike. 

El faltered for a moment, as if she wanted nothing more than to be held by Mike. But her face hardened and changed. She shoved him and he went flying into Will, who broke Mike’s fall. 

Will felt his head hit something and everything went dark. 

_____________________________

Will looked around. They were in his car, Hopper was driving, his face slick and shining with tears. 

They hadn’t been able to convince her. Mike held Will’s head in his lap. “We’re going to get you to the hospital, okay? Just hang in there. Oh, God! Will, I’m so sorry.” His tears landed on Will’s face and neck. 

“It’s okay. Just a flesh wound.” Will said, quoting Monty Python. 

Mike choked out a chuckle.

Will reached up and touched Mike’s face. It was way too intimate. If he had more blood circulating to his brain, he would have stopped himself. But as it was, he felt dizzy and compulsive. His feelings for Mike had never faded, though many years had passed since that kiss. 

He had come out to his best friend by kissing him. It had been so awkward and terrifying. But Mike was more understanding and a better friend than he deserved. 

Now, here he was holding his friend’s face. His friend who had just confessed to losing his whole world: El. He realized the impulse was selfish and let his hand fall.  
_______________________________________

They got to the hospital and patched Will up, stapled was more like it. But when Will looked at Mike, his heart lurched. The emptiness he had seen days ago had returned in full force. It was like he was looking at a corpse, a shell of the person he had once been. He wished there was some gesture in this world that could comfort him. But all he could do was be there for him for whatever darkness followed from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has skipped over quite a few things. I wanted to focus on the fall out from her abandonment and less on their chase of her. I could think of no scenario in which Mike, Hopper, and Will didn't go after her though. Hope you enjoyed this exposition-- I mean chapter!


	5. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the group tries to console Mike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning!
> 
> This chapter contains underage drinking and graphic (well, at least I think its graphic) scenes of vomiting. 
> 
> Also a lot of swearing.... They're 17/ 18. They're going to say the f word. 
> 
> You have been warned. Enjoy!

Everyone had reacted to the news of what happened differently. 

Lucas was angry at her. To him, El was dead. But he never talked about her. Mostly because of Max. In the month following the incident, Eleven’s name couldn’t be said in front of Max without her choking back tears. El had been her best friend and she felt her absence profoundly. As for Dustin, whatever he felt he didn’t openly display. He instead focused on trying to console everyone else. He tried to pretend things were normal, as best as he could. He tried to distract everyone by constantly making plans.

Which is how they ended up at Madison Grover’s party.  
___________________

Dustin had said, “It’s a change of pace. Mike needs this. Everything reminds him of her. This party might be a good place for him to loosen up, maybe even meet someone new.”

Max gave him a death glare, “Are you serious? He was with El for nearly 4 years! He’s not going to get over her just like that.”

Dustin said defensively, “I’m not saying he would, but we’ve got to do something! Where else are we supposed to go? The movies? The diner? The Lake? All those old places are just reminders that she isn’t here. This is at least different.”  
___________

Dustin had a point. Will just wished he didn’t feel so awkward and out of place at the party. They would never hang out with Madison, let alone go to a party at her house. At first, they had all stayed together around the fire, drinking the cocktails and beer that were being passed around. They tried talking about movies, music, anything to bring Mike out of his shell but he remained quiet, either looking into fire or watching the conversation. He didn’t seem to have the energy to participate. 

After several drinks Mike had excused himself. His friends started to stand up but he said, “Guys, I appreciate it, but I need to be alone for a bit.” 

Lucas followed after him, “Mike-”

“I’m fine, Lucas. I’m just getting dizzy around the fire. I need some space.” Lucas nodded sadly and sat down. 

Will watched Mike go inside. Lucas plopped back down and side-eyed Dustin, “So much for a change of pace.”

Dustin was bitter, “Go to hell, Lucas. At least I’m trying.”

“Well, stop trying. He isn’t okay and he isn’t going to be for a while. Coming here was stupid. All he’s seeing are people around him laughing and having a good time while he can’t. We should have been fucking hanging out at our house.”

“Piss off, Lucas.” Dustin wiped his face, stood up, and went inside. 

Lucas turned to Will, “I’m sorry, Will. I know you hate these things.”

Will wasn’t sure if he was talking about the party, the fighting, or both so he just nodded.

Lucas continued, “We should probably head out soon. Thanks for driving us, by the way.”

There a sharp breath and they both looked to see Max, doing her best to hold herself together. Lucas put an arm around her. “Max, it’s okay.”

“I feel like everyone is falling apart,” she sobbed.

“We’ll get through this, okay?”

Will excused himself, “I’m gonna go find Dustin and Mike.”

Lucas nodded. 

Will opened the sliding glass door to Madison’s house and walked inside. The music was loud and the house smelled like cigarettes and sweat. People were dancing in the living room so tightly, Will felt claustrophobic. There were too many people. He just had to find Dustin and Mike.

He could see Dustin in the center of the action. In the few moments Dustin had been away he managed to down a glass of something purple and had some girl dancing really close to him. Holy shit, it was Stacy!

Will turned right back around. He was not about to interrupt whatever was happening there. Okay. He knew where Dustin was, he would find Mike instead. 

That turned out to be more of a challenge than Will thought. He checked the bathrooms, the kitchen, dining room, and even the bedrooms. One was locked and there was definitely a couple doing something in there from the noises they were making. Oh, God, this place was the fucking worst. 

A panicked feeling rose up in his chest. He checked back outside and saw Max on Lucas’s lap, her arms wrapped around him. Mike wasn’t out here either. Where did he go? He didn’t leave did he?

He heard the striking of a match and turned around. A girl with long black hair pulled into a ponytail, lit up a cigarette behind him. He recognized her from Algebra class, she was moody but not mean or cruel. It was bitter, cold enough for snow if there had been any humidity.

“Have you seen-”

“You looking for Wheeler or the Dancing Queen in there?”

“I’m looking for Mike.” 

“I think I saw him go into the basement. He looked like he was about to puke up his guts.”

Will nodded, relieved, “Thanks, Steph.” 

She took a long drag of her cigarette, “Don’t mention it.” 

Will walked to the side of the house and down the stairs that led to the basement from outside. He opened the door and scanned the room. It was musty, the floor was cement, and the ceiling was low but the light was on, which seemed like a good sign. He walked in and saw Mike huddled between a stack of boxes marked, “Christmas Decorations” and a pile of laundry.

“Hey, Mike.”

Mike sat up, swaying. There was an almost empty bottle of whiskey next to him. Holy shit! 

“Hey, Will.” There was a smile on his face. The first one he’d seen in what felt like months. 

Will approached slowly, “Hey, Mike. How are you doing?”

“Great. Really great. I thought up a new idea for a campaign. Have you ever heard of Call of Cthulhu? It’s a horror system rpg.”

“Oh? Inspiration has struck, huh?” Will tried to mask his internal panic. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do?? What if he had alcohol poisoning? He hadn’t drunk that whole bottle had he? Maybe it was only partially full when he’d gotten it. 

Will asked, “How much of that bottle did you drink?”

“We have basically lived through a horror film with the shit we’ve seen. There’s a lot of good material in there. So I was sitting in here and thinking of all the things that could kill me and BOOM! These ideas for a story just came to me.”

“That’s great, Mike. But how much have you drank of that?”

Mike looked at the bottle, swaying. “Enough to,” he started lurching like he was going to vomit, Will put his hands out to steady him. 

“Blaaahh!!” Mike pretended to throw up on Will and then he started laughing hysterically, crumbling onto the floor. “I got you good!”

“Mike....”

“I’m fine, Will. Stop worrying.”

“But how much-”

“It wasn’t full. I’m fine.”

Will sighed, he wasn’t completely convinced that he was okay. “I’m gonna get you some water, and then we’re gonna head home, okay?”

Will went to stand up but Mike tried to catch his wrist. He missed though. “Don’t. Not yet.” There is was, the sad look had returned. 

“Mike, you need to drink water. You’re dehydrated. You could get sick.”

“I’ll drink a whole gallon of it, I promise. Just stay for a minute,” Mike pleaded. Will sat back down next to Mike on the ground. Mike reached out and held Will’s hand. Will’s stomach started doing flips.

“You know what the worst part is?”

Will shook his head.

“How much empty space there is. You don’t realize it, but when you’re in a relationship, the space gets filled with these little things. Your hand is never empty. Stupid little kisses. You always have someone to lean on. Now, I just feel the space where she used to be.”

Will felt his heart breaking for his friend. 

Mike continued, “You felt like that when you and June broke up, didn’t you?” Mike was talking about Will’s first boyfriend. The only other gay boy at Hawkins. He had been like a small piece of heaven to him, before he went away to college, and found many more fish in the sea. 

Will swallowed hard, “Yeah. It was different, of course, but yeah.”

“I should have hugged you more. I didn’t realize. It’s the only thing that kind of helps. Words just- just wash over. They don’t matter.” Mike turned his head, pressing his forehead to the concrete. “I think I’m gonna puke.” Will swept the hair out of his friend’s face and Mike started coughing, then gagging, and finally- puking. 

Will held Mike’s hair and his breath. He tried not to breath in the pungent smell, and compelled his own stomach to calm down. Will looked around for a rag, napkins, something. There was a sink next to the washer and dryer and a pile of folded laundry, where he saw a clean towel. “Sorry, Madison,” he thought. 

When Mike had stopped, Will grabbed the towel and handed it to his friend. Mike blew his nose and grimaced. 

Will held Mike’s elbow, “Are you okay to stand? There’s a sink here, you can rinse out your mouth.”

Mike nodded, still swaying a little. Will helped him stand up and walked him to the sink. Mike stuck his head under the faucet, rinsing, spitting, and drinking. Another wave came on and he held the sink as his stomach continued to empty what little was left in it. 

Will held his breath and cleaned up the mess. This was all too familiar. The mornings after his father would get plastered at some stupid get-together, the smell permeated through their small house. He remembered his mother’s disgust and resignation. He’d see her on her hands and knees cleaning the bathroom or floor afterwards. 

Will hated this. Fuck this. Fuck Madison and her dumbass party. He couldn’t wait to go home. 

Shit. He couldn’t drop off Mike at his house, Mrs. Wheeler would be pissed or frantic. He wasn’t sure which. Will would have to take him to his house. His mom was way more chill about it than the Wheeler’s probably were. She had been pretty open with the fact that she drank in high school. As long as he didn’t drink and drive, she seemed okay with it. 

Will threw the soiled towel in the trash can that held the dryer lint. He went to the sink to wash his hands but saw Mike was swaying a lot more now. He was gripping onto the sink for balance and looked like he was falling asleep. 

Fuck. How in the hell was he supposed to get him upstairs? He couldn’t lift him if he started dead weighting. He held onto Mike to steady him. “Mike! Wake up.” He opened his eyes but didn’t seem really awake. 

“I’m fine, Will.” But then he closed his eyes again.

Oh, God! Oh, God! What the fuck?! 

Will took on a sharp tone, “Mike! Wake UP! You need to stand up! We’ve got to go home, so you need to help me! I can’t get you to the car myself!”

Mike straightened. He turned, holding onto Will but then sank down to the ground instead. 

“Mike! Mike! GET UP!!” Oh, fuck. Will was barely suppressing the frantic feeling building in his chest. He could feel his eyes watering. He didn’t know what to do. 

The door opened and he heard Lucas’s voice, “Mike? Will? Are you down here?”

“Yes! Lucas! Down here!” Will called. He thought, “Lucas, you are a saint!”

Lucas walked down and saw the bottle, the mess that remained, an exasperated Will, and Mike, who had gone from swaying side to side to rocking back and forth. 

“Shit! How much did he drink?”

“I don’t know, he said it wasn’t a whole bottle but fucking look at him.” 

Poor Will, Lucas thought, of all the people to find him. “Come on. You get this side, I’ll get this one.” Together, they lifted him to his feet. 

They carried him to Will’s car and plopped him in the back seat. 

Lucas said, “Turn the heat on and stay with him. I’m gonna get Max and Dustin. I’ll be right back. Don’t let him fall on his side. I’ll get some water from the house. I will be right back, Will.” 

Will had calmed down significantly. Lucas had that ability about him, like he had the situation under control. Even though Mike was the reason that they were all friends, Lucas was the leader in a lot of ways.

Will propped Mike up and leaned him against the window. He moved to get into the driver’s seat, when Mike reached for Will’s wrist again. This time, he caught it. Will looked at Mike. He was mostly out of it. Although the grip wasn’t tight, he could feel the weight of it. 

“I’ve got to turn the heat on, Mike.”

Mike mumbled something, possibly an objection, but Will couldn’t hear. He repeated, “I’m gonna turn on the heat. I’m not going anywhere.”

He leaned forward, started the car, and turned on the heat, before sitting back down. Mike seemed to sense him, because he swayed so that his head was resting on Will, instead. Will used his free hand to stroke Mike’s hair. “It’ll be okay, Mike. You’ll be okay.” He didn’t know that. He was so scared that Mike would slip away, just like El did. But saying made it sound like a promise. A promise he would fulfill however he could.


	6. The Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the party is brought to the car and the drive is less than pleasurable.

The car ride had been more of a nightmare than expected. Max sat up front, so there was less of a chance that Mike would throw up on her. But she leaned forward the whole car ride, her body turned and waiting for Mike to blow. 

The spat between Lucas and Dustin was put on hold, while they watered and held up Mike. Will drove slowly with the heat turned all the way up and Mike’s window rolled down. 

Lucas advised Will, “Keep an eye out for him when you get him home. I don’t think he had alcohol poisoning, but just in case, make sure he’s laying on his side when he goes to sleep.”

“What? Why?” Will asked.

Lucas answered, “‘Cause, otherwise, he could asphyxiate.”

Will’s eyes went wide, “What the hell does that mean?!”

Lucas informed him, “Asphyxiation is when the body’s gag reflex doesn’t work. So if he vomits and is on his back. He can choke on his vomit and die.” 

Dustin added, “That’s what killed Jimmy Hendrix and Janis Joplin, I think.”

Lucas corrected, “It was just Jimi Hendrix. Janis Joplin OD’d.”

Max scolded them, “Guys! Seriously!”

Will was gripping the steering wheel ‘til his knuckles turned white. 

Lucas and Dustin apologized to Will. 

Lucas said, “I think it was mostly drugs not alcohol that causes that. He should be fine.” 

Dustin chimed in, “But just in case.”

Mike mumbled, “Pull over.”

Will slowed down to a stop, as Mike leaned out the window, gagging and spitting more. They sat in silence. Lucas asked, “Can we all agree to never do this again?”  
_________________________________________

Will dropped everyone off one by one. Lucas promised to let Mrs. Wheeler know where Mike was first thing tomorrow. 

Lucas offered, “Do you want me to stay the night too, Will? Help you keep watch and all?”

“Thanks, but someone’s got to tell Mrs. Wheeler where he is.”

He nodded, “I’ll have the com on though. You need me, I’ll be over in a heartbeat.”

Will smiled, “Thanks, Lucas. Seriously for everything tonight.”

Mike leaned over across the now, empty back seat, “Thank you, Lukassss.”

“You’re an asshat, Mike,” he replied.

“But I’m your favorite one!” He grinned. 

Lucas laughed and turned back to Will. “You need anything Will, you call me.” 

Will nodded. He really wished he could have taken Lucas up on the offer. But both he and Dustin had work tomorrow, he couldn’t put them out like that. Whatever was in store, his mom had been through enough of this stuff that she could help him, if he really needed it. 

Will turned to Mike, “We’re gonna practice walking. Get in the passenger seat.”

Mike put his hands up, “Shotgun!”

“Yeah. Shotgun.” Apparently, Mike had gotten something like a second wind. He had gone from dead tired, miserable and vomiting, and back to giddy in the span of 45 minutes. Will guessed the water was helping. Lucas had advised Will to keep him awake long enough to get some water in him and rehydrate him. 

Will parked the car and helped Mike out of the back and into the passenger seat. He still wasn’t stable on his feet, but he wasn’t dead weighting anymore. He would at least be able to get him in the house. 

Will got back in and started driving. Mike clumsily rolled the window all the way down, resting his head on his folded arms and letting the air flow through his hair. Will stole a glance. Why did he have to be so beautiful?

He inwardly scolded himself. Why couldn’t he just have a normal relationship with his best friend? Why did his feelings always have to get in the fucking way? His best friend was drunk because his girlfriend… No, not his girlfriend, his fucking soulmate… abandoned him. 

Will hated himself for the feelings that refused to go away. He hated how helpless he felt, watching Mike fall apart and feeling like there was not a thing he could do to put him back together.


	7. The Embrace

“I love the drive to your house, Will.”

“Really?” Will hated it. He couldn’t get to his house fast enough. If there was another way he would take it. The drive had once been peaceful to him too, but since the Demogorgon, it just filled him with anxiety. That if he took too long, something would catch him.

Mike replied, “Yeah. It always felt like magical. I got a lot of my story ideas riding to your house.”

Will smiled to himself, feeling special. 

“I mean you even have-r a freaking castle,” He slurred. “We should sleep in there tonight.”

“Mike, it’s practically freezing.”

“Feels okay to me.”

“Maybe sometime this summer, if we can even fit in there anymore.”

Mike’s expression changed. “No plans, Will.” 

“What?”

“I don’t want to make any plans. Not for the summer, not for ever.”

“What, why?”

“Because plans are why I’m in this fucking mess…”

“Mike…”

“I told her to wait until graduation. But she couldn’t. I should have said, ‘Fuck it. Let’s go kill the bastard.’ I had to wait until graddation and what the fuck for? Me and my stupid fucking plans. It’s my fucking fault.”

“No, Mike! She left on her own. That was her choice! It is not your fault! What were you supposed to do?”

“I was supposed to be there for her, Will. I was supposed to save her.”

“You can’t save everyone, Mike. Don’t put that on yourself!” Will wanted desperately to try and convince his friend, to say the right words, but they just washed over Mike, not making contact. Will couldn’t fight Mike’s inner demons anymore than Mike could fight off El’s. 

Will pulled over and parked the car. He turned to Mike, sternly. “You said yourself words have no effect. They don’t help, they just wash over you. That’s the same thing for El. She had it in her mind that there was only one option for her. There was not a goddamn thing that you could have said to change her mind!” 

Mike swayed, his eyebrows furrowed. The words had sunk in. But just to be sure, Will hugged him. 

“Don’t you put that on yourself. She made her choice and you’ve done everything and more to save her. She has to save herself, okay?”

Mike rolled his head into Will’s shoulder. Will could feel his nose, and lips on his neck. His hair brushing over his ear. Then, he felt tears. Mike drew in a shaky breath and held on to Will’s jacket so tight, he thought he’d bore holes into it. 

He sobbed, “I miss her so much.”

Will’s heart felt like it was breaking. He didn’t know what else he could do or say. So, he held Mike a little tighter and they stayed that way until Mike stopped sobbing, until he steadied himself. Mike’s arms relaxed and he pulled away. His eyes were unfocused and distant. He didn’t want to completely relinquish contact though, so he leaned his head on Will’s shoulder. 

Will wished he could fully enjoy this rare contact. But it was under such sad circumstances. Mike was leaning onto his shoulder heavily. Will knew he had to get him home before he fell asleep again. There was no way he’d be able to carry him on his own. Will shifted the car into gear and drove again. “We’ll be home soon, Mike.”

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for filling the space.”

Will smiled sadly, “Anytime.”


	8. The Arrival Home

Will pulled into his driveway. Mike almost made it out of the car on his own, but closing the door was enough to unbalance him and he held the hood for support. Will hurried over and slung Mike’s arm around his shoulder. 

Will coached, “I need you to put on your best sober face, Mike. I don’t know how ok my mom is about drinking and you are tanked.”

Mike smirked, “I think I left my sober face at the party. Sorry, pal.”

Will shook his head. He wasn’t quite sure how his mom would react. Especially considering he was 10 minutes passed curfew. He walked Mike up the steps and into the house. 

Joyce jumped up from the table, “Will! Where have you been?”

She looked over at Mike and back at Will. 

Mike answered, “That would be my bad, Mrs. Byers. I got er… food poisoning… Will had to pull over a LOT on the way.” He seemed to be trying not to slur, but it wasn’t working.

Will sighed. “I’m sorry, Mom.” 

Joyce raised an eyebrow. “Food poisoning, huh?”

Will smiled innocently. 

Joyce shook her head. “Give him some aspirin and a full glass of water before bed.” She whispered, “Helps with the hangover.”

Will nodded, relieved and grateful for how cool his mom was with the whole situation. 

Will brought him into the bathroom to clean him up.

Mike raised his hands, “Shower time!”

Will rolled his eyes, putting Mike’s hands down, “No, you’re waiting til tomorrow, when you can stand up on your own, but we still have to clean you up.” 

Will handed Mike the aspirin and glass of water. Once he had finished both, Will turned on the sink and handed Mike a spare toothbrush as he loaded up his own. Will used to have a toothbrush just for Mike when they were younger, but since coming out, sleepovers had been very few and far between. 

Afterwards, Will wet a washcloth with warm water. He handed it to Mike, who took off his shirt. Will immediately turned away. But he couldn’t help peaking. 

One of Will’s favorite parts of their summer days at the lake was watching Mike swim. There was a slight guilt in enjoying his friend being shirtless. Will didn’t swim much but he enjoyed digging his feet in the sand and watching his friends goof off in the water. At one point, Dustin had bought a bunch of water guns and it had been everyone’s mission to get Will in the water. Mike had successfully done so by picking him up bridal style and tossing him into the water. For a moment, there had been contact between their bare skin. It had been such a fleeting moment for everyone else, but to Will the moment had lasted for months and he still blushed at the thought of it.

As he did now. Mike was drunkenly wiping his face, neck, and chest but he was missing so much of the mess. 

“Mike, stop. You’re missing spots. Here.” Will took the washcloth and started scrubbing around Mike’s neck. Will internally screamed at himself, “What are you doing?!” This was breaking all the rules. They weren’t supposed to do this. Mike shouldn’t be shirtless in his bathroom. Will knew that he shouldn’t be wiping him up. This whole thing was so intimate and it was making his heart pound in his ears. They had to get out of here. Will tried to clean Mike up as quickly as possible so that he could put a shirt on him and start thinking clearly again. 

Mike slurred, smiling, “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” 

It was like his words had been arrows and they’d gone straight through him. Will felt so ashamed. How much of this would Mike remember? How much would he hate him the next day? He wished he’d brought Lucas. Will handed Mike back the washcloth. 

“I’m gonna get some clothes and your sleeping bag.” And he left the room as quickly as possible.

____________________________

Will had set out the sleeping bag and grabbed Mike a set of clothes. They were some of Jonathan’s hand-me-downs that still didn’t quite fit him yet. He knocked, cracked the door, and held the clothes out through the opening. 

He felt Mike take the clothes. 

“Will?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

Will saw him looking through the doorway, “Thanks for tonight.”

Will shrugged it off, “It’s nothing.”

“Are you kidding? I was barfing like it was my job.”

Will suppressed a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay. Well, your turn’s next weekend. You can be the big lush, and I’ll carry you around all night.”

“Mike…”

“Seriously, you can puke on me, weep, whatever.”

He wanted to correct his friend. He wanted to say, “You know I don’t drink, Mike.” But he knew that Mike understood, at least when he was sober. Will had his reasons for not drinking. Mostly, he worried about turning into his dad. Not that his dad had really been an alcoholic but Will was afraid that somewhere inside himself was a dormant Lonnie and that drinking could be the thing that would wake it up. He never told anyone about it though. He knew his friends would argue against it. He could understand that the fear wasn’t rational. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid of it all the same.

“Maybe someday I’ll take you up on that,” Will offered.

“Ooo. Someday. That sounds ominous. I look forward to seeing a drunk Will Byers.”

“Just get dressed.”

Mike smirked and closed the door. 

________________________________

When Mike came in Will’s room he immediately collapsed on top of the sleeping bag.

“Hey! Get under the covers, you dolt!”

Mike snuggled up into the pillow, stubbornly. Will rolled his eyes and tossed extra blankets from the closet on him. Mike was exhausting when he was drunk. 

Will tucked him in, then, remembering what Lucas had said, he used the pillows to prop him up on his side. A part of him liked being able to take care of Mike like this. But he hated how much he was worrying about this. Surely Mike had drank enough water, right? 

Mike whined, objecting to Will’s positioning of the pillows.

“Mike. Don’t fight me on this, please?”

Mike opened an eye and submitted to sleeping on his side. 

Will turned off the lights and slipped under the covers. His fear had mostly been abated. As he lay in his bed, his mind started chiding him for what little joy he had taken in the evening: taking care of Mike, being so close, touching him, having him sleepover, and especially for the feelings that were rising up in his chest again. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take care of Mike like this. He didn’t trust himself. 

He made up his mind not to let Mike sleepover again. They couldn’t. Will listened to Mike’s slow, sleeping breaths. His heart faltered. If this was to be the last sleepover, maybe he could allow himself to soak up this moment for what it was. He could fall asleep to the sounds of Mike next to him and promise himself to be a better friend tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel a little guilty for the way I ended this chapter. Will is a wonderful friend, but he doesn't feel like he is. I hope that the narration communicates that but just in case.
> 
> EDIT: added some stuff at the end.


	9. Breakfast and Less than Pleasant Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The headache and ensuing aftermath of the night, complete with toast and aspirin.

The next morning, Mike woke up groggy, nauseous, and with a headache that felt like someone was pounding on the inside of his skull. He groaned, holding his head. 

He heard Will’s voice, “There’s water and aspirin next to you.”

Mike opened an eye and looked where Will was pointing. He grabbed the water and sat himself up but immediately realized his mistake. His headache dialed itself up to 40 and he groaned again. He drank the water and took the aspirin and laid back down. 

He glanced at Will to see him wearing an expression of, “You did this to yourself.” He hoped Will didn’t plan on lecturing him. It wasn’t really his style, though. Lucas would probably be the one to lay into him.

Mike tried to remember what happened last night but there was like a foggy haze, clouding up the events of the night before.

“What happened last night?”

Will sighed, “How much do you remember?”

“I’ll probably remember it better if you just start telling me.”

Will shook his head, “Well, for starters, you disappeared at the party. We found you... in the basement... with a bottle of whiskey.”

“Was that a clue reference?” Mike joked. The haze was starting to lift a bit. He remembered going down there. 

Will smirked, “Yeah, we’re solving the murder of your stomach.”

“Oh please, don’t. I don’t want to remember that part.” But he did. He could recall staring at the floor and clutching the sink, Will’s grip on his arm. It hadn’t been the group that found him. It had been Will.

Mike asked, “You found me, didn’t you?”

Will seemed surprised, “I thought you couldn’t remember.”

“It’s bits and pieces.”

“Then, do you remember the car ride?”

Mike answered, “Sort of. How many times did you have to pull over?”

“I wasn’t really counting. Max might have, though. I think it was somewhere under 10.”

“Holy shit! How did you guys not leave me on the side of the road?”

Will laughed, “Well, you weren’t a terrible drunk. You were pretty complacent all things considered. As a result we got a LOT of water in you.”

“Then, why does it feel like I have a jackhammer inside my head?”

“Water helps with a hangover. It doesn’t cure it.”

“How long is this supposed to last?”

“I don’t actually know. I think it’s an all day thing.”

Mike rolled his face into his pillow, “Just kill me, Will.”

“And let you miss out on the wonderful repercussions of your actions?”

Mike groaned again. 

He felt Will pat his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you. You haven’t eaten since before the party.”

“I don’t even want to think about food.”

“You gotta eat something. Just toast, please.”

He looked at Will, who had gotten out of bed and was standing by the door, expectantly. 

Mike joked, “Fine, Nurse Ratched.”

Will suddenly looked mischievous. “No. This is something Nurse Ratched would do.” He clapped his hands right near Mike’s ear. 

Mike cringed and yelled, “You asshole!” 

Will was grinning, giddy, and darted out of the room. Mike couldn’t help but smile. He had missed this. It felt like they were kids again, playing tag, cracking jokes. He stood up, slowly, and followed after Will. 

When he came out to the kitchen, Mrs. Byers was making coffee. 

“Morning, Mike. Did you have fun last night?” She asked with a smirk.

“I was until I got…. uhhh... food poisoning.” Mike couldn’t tell if it was okay to tell Mrs. Byers or if Will would be in trouble.

“Hon, I’ve been around the block and I know what drunk looks like.” She grabbed her coffee and sat down. Will was looking slightly mortified as he slowly put the bread in the toaster. She was sitting with them at the table, which meant she was going to give them a talk. 

She waved Will over, “Will, come sit down for a minute.”

Oh shit. Mike thought. Will sat down, not making eye contact, with the exception of the quick apologetic look he gave to Mike.

Joyce Byers began, “First of all, Will, I trust you enough to know that if you were driving your friends that you didn’t drink.”

Mike and Will spoke at once.  
“I didn’t-”  
“He didn’t-”

She put her hand up, “I know. And I want to underline the importance of it. If for any reason, the designated driver for the night has a drink, they are not to drive. I don’t mind you drinking, as long as you are being safe.” Then, she leaned forward and suddenly her face changed to give that mom-scary look. Her words were calculated and slow. “If I find out that any of you ever drive drunk, I will unleash the seventh layer of hell in this house and be sure that your mothers do as well."

Neither of them spoke. They nodded fiercely.

Her voice was calm and gentle again, “That said, if your driver drinks, you call me. I don’t care if it’s 3 in the morning. You call me. You understand?”

“We understand,” Mike said.   
“We will, Mom,” Will replied.

Joyce leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee like nothing had happened. Mike ventured to ask, “Will you… tell my mom about last night?”

Joyce raised an eyebrow and the toaster popped. Will stood up to get the toast.

She set her coffee down, “I don’t know what it is about you and Nancy not being open with your mom about these things.”

“She wouldn’t understand.”

Joyce shook her head. “You think she didn’t drink at your age?”

Mike’s eyes got wide, “Did she?”

Joyce nodded, “Yeah.”

“Were you two friends?”

“Oh, no. We ran in different circles but she was at parties. She drank. I just don’t understand why you don’t feel like talk to her.”

Will quietly put the toast on the table and put some pop-tarts for himself in the toaster.

Mike sighed and nibbled at the toast. His head was still killing him and the conversation was not helping. “She just… She makes it so difficult.”

“She can be a really good listener if you open up.”

“Then, why don’t you talk to her?” There was a moment of silence and Mike quickly realized how curtly he said that. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I just meant… well..." He averted his eyes, "There’s a reason you don’t talk to her.”

Joyce said, “We’re just very different people. It’s not a bad thing.”

Mike quietly asked, “You... don’t think she’s sorta judgmental?”

Joyce didn't know how to respond. She was not going to bad mouth Mike’s mom, but he did hit the nail on the head. Joyce learned a long time ago that there were certain conversations she didn’t have with Karen. She realized it when she and Lonnie divorced. 

Joyce had been venting to her about Lonnie, when she realized how uncomfortable Karen was with the conversation. Joyce remembered the sudden understanding of how Karen Wheeler- Treasurer of the Student Council and Head of the Prom Committee, didn’t approve. Joyce could see it in her eyes. She viewed the whole Lonnie situation and divorce as Joyce's fault. That it was the price she paid for hanging with that crowd. Karen would never say it, but Joyce could tell. From then on, she stuck to surface conversations- the weather, their boys, schools, and teachers- safe topics, the ones that Karen was comfortable with. 

But she was still Mike's mother, “She’s your mom, honey. You only get one. I get that she’s hard to talk to, but you should at least try.”

Mike slumped in his chair and took another bite of toast, nodding. 

“I won’t tell her,” Joyce added. Mike looked up, relief spread across his face. Joyce added, “I will not lie for you, though. If she asks me, I am going to tell her. I’d encourage you to discuss the topic of drinking with her yourself.”

“I will.” He nodded. Will seriously had the coolest mom, Mike thought. Unbelievably and insanely cool.

_________________________________________

After Mike showered and got dressed in some more of Jonathan’s hand-me-downs, Will drove him home.

He came in through the door to the smell of deviled eggs. He felt nauseous. 

“Is that you, Mike?” He heard from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, mom.” 

She came out to see him. “Lucas told me you stayed the night at Will’s last night.”

“Yeah. We all hung out pretty late and I didn’t want to wake you guys.”

“Okay…” He could tell there was something she wanted to say. But she did this terrible dance around sometimes. Mike really didn’t have the patience for it. But he checked himself. He had to try.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“Nothing. Just… I’m surprised you slept over Will’s is all. You haven’t in so long.”

No. She wasn’t going to talk about this. They weren’t going to talk about this.

“Yeah. It has been a while.”

“You slept in separate rooms, right?”

“MOM!”

She put her hands on her hips, “Don’t give me that, Mike. Sleeping over Will’s is like sleeping over a girl’s house. You need to make other arrangements.”

“Oh my God. We’re not talking about this.”

“Michael Wheeler, we most certainly are. There are rules.”

“We have been sleeping in each other’s rooms since we were five! Nothing has ever happened.”

“You’re both older now.”

Mike shook his head. This was fucking infuriating. This was her line in the sand. Really?

Mike was clenching his fists, “You know him, Mom. You know Will. Do you ever think he would try something?”

“I’m not saying that…”

“No, that’s exactly what you’re saying!”

“Boys have certain urges--”

“UGH, MOM!”

“Michael! You are not a child, anymore! I don’t want you to be the object of those desires to him.”

Mike covered his ears and closed his eyes. Breathe. Just focus on breathing, he told himself. He couldn’t stand this. He didn’t want to scream at his mom. He didn’t do that. But he never felt more like it. 

“Really, Michael? Covering your ears? This is so beyond ridiculous. You are not a child.”

“I’m being ridiculous?! You’re the one talking about Will like he’s some kind of pervert.” Mike’s mind was racing. Go upstairs before you say something you regret. He told himself.

“I thought you understood this. You and your friends stopped having sleepovers with him in high school.” 

“It wasn’t because… just forget it.” He turned and went upstairs.

“Michael!”

“Just leave me alone!” He ran up the stairs and slammed his door shut and locked it. He paced around the room. He wanted to slam the door again and again until it broke. He wanted to punch a wall, to kick everything out of his way. But instead he threw himself onto his bed and yelled into his pillow. 

 

He was exhausted. His eyes still stung from last night. God, how much had he been crying? He remembered how tightly he had held onto Will, how he had been sobbing into his friend’s shoulder.

How could she say those things about him? It wasn’t like that. What did she think? That Will would try to touch him in his sleep or something? His stomach did a flip and he tried to shake the thought away, burrowing his head further into the pillow. 

There you go, Mrs. Byers. Exhibit A of why Mike doesn’t open up to his mom. He had been prepping himself the whole car ride home, preparing himself to casually open up the conversation about last night. Only to have her jump down his throat for sleeping in the same room as Will. Well, at least she didn’t suspect him of drinking. 

He had only just left Will’s but he suddenly wanted to be back. He wanted to get out of the house again. But that meant getting out of bed. He closed his eyes. His head still pounded. He just wanted to go back to sleep and wait for the day to be over. He threw the covers over his head and breathed in deep. Jonathan’s clothes still smelled like Will’s room. He began to drift off wishing he was back at Will’s, back in his room. He briefly wondered if that was weird but fell asleep before he let the thought take root.


	10. The Drive Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: There is mention of an original character, named June. There are some characters that I have created throughout my fanfics to fill the spaces and add to character development. This is one such character. I have done my best to make him as believable and tangible as any of the other characters that already exist. Some people have feelings about adding original characters and may not choose to read a fic with such a character in it. I understand completely if that is the case with you. This character was not designed to compete with the other characters, but rather to compliment them. I sincerely hope that you feel it is the latter of the two and that you will continue to read.   
> Thank you~  
> Val

Will watched Mike walk into the house. He took a breath to steady himself and put the car in reverse. The past 12 hours had been so weird and the car ride had been an emotional roller coaster.

On their way over, Mike remembered what had transpired in the passenger seat. His eyes had grown wide.

“Did I- I was crying, wasn’t I? Last night.”

It caught Will off guard. “Yeah… yeah. You were-”

“Did everyone see?” He turned with a panicked expression.

“No! No. Just me.” He reassured, “It was after I dropped everyone off.”

Mike sighed, relieved. His shoulders relaxed and he touched his forehead. He pleaded, “Will, please don’t tell them. I know everyone’s already worried enough.”

Will nodded, “I won’t.”

 

It had seemed like only yesterday he’d asked Mike the same thing. 

Mike glanced over, seemingly embarrassed, “I really am okay though. I was a sad, sappy drunk but I’m fine.”

“Mike. Friends don’t-”

Mike grumbled, “Don’t say it. We’re not kids anymore, Will. We do lie. All the time.” 

That stung. It wasn’t necessarily a dig at Will but he knew being in the closet had caused him to lie a lot and, when Mike had found out, he had to keep Will’s secret for a while before he told the others. Mike had lied for him. And it was the beginning of the end of that saying. They all began withholding things.

Will reasoned, “You’ve already opened up about it, Mike. Don’t try and take it back. You’re allowed to be sad for as long as you need. You’re allowed to talk about it.”

“Thanks, Dr. Byers.” Mike said a little more sarcastically than he meant.

Will glanced over, annoyed, “I’ve been to enough doctors to know this much: keeping it in won’t do you any favors.”

“I didn’t- Sorry, Will.”

Will sighed. “I’ll give you a pass for being a jerk because you’re hungover.” He smirked at his friend.

Mike smiled back. Will glanced over. He loved seeing Mike’s smile. And the afternoon sun just seemed to make him glow. He turned back and focused on the road. He had to measure the seconds he spent staring at Mike lest he give himself away. 

Mike said, “Despite feeling like someone is currently drilling into my skull, sleeping over was fun. I wish we did it more often.”

Will responded quietly, “Well, I get why we don’t.”

Mike furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… me being… being gay, it would be weird I guess.”

“Will, we had plenty of sleepovers after you came out. That wasn’t why we stopped.” Mike suddenly seemed upset.

Will looked over, confused, “What are you talking about? What other reason would there be? Was it my nightmares?”

“God, no! Oh my God, no Will. We all have nightmares about those things. No.”

“Then, why?”

Mike was stunned, “June… June had said that you were… that he had talked to you about it…”

Will’s grip on the steering wheel tightened at the name: June, his first boyfriend. His first everything (well, not everything… first somethings...). What did June have to do with his friends’ lack of sleepovers? 

Will tried to steady his breath, “Whatever he said, can you please just start from the beginning? Because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mike explained, “June had told us- the party- that sleepovers were, well, that it was unfair that we could sleepover and he couldn’t. That it was… awkward. Like if Max was allowed to sleep at Dustin’s house but not Lucas’s. He phrased it much more eloquently but that was the basic gist of it. He said he'd talked to you about it.”

Will seethed, “Then he lied, Mike. He never had that conversation with me.”

“I should have asked you. I don’t know why I took him at his word.”

“He was really charming with that mouth of his. Like a freaking snake.” Will felt anger growing in his chest like a hot coal. All those missed weekends. All that time he could have had with his friends had been stolen from him. 

“That was some manipulative shit he pulled. It seems so unlike him though. Unless he was like that and I just never saw.”

Will’s grip loosened on the steering wheel. He never felt manipulated, but maybe he had been all along. It was exhausting hating someone. 

Will mumbled, “He wasn’t.”

They were quiet for a moment. Mike broke the silence, “Well, now that we figured that out, we should have twice the amount of sleepovers this summer to make up for what we missed.”

Will thought it was so strange. Last night, Mike had said no plans, yet, here he was planning out their summer sleeping arrangements. It was like he had been a different person. 

Will agreed, “Sounds good.”

The car got quiet. Mike ventured a question. “Do you miss him?”

“What?! No. He was an asshole. I’m glad he’s…”  
But Will couldn’t say it. He was angry at him but he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was glad he was gone. Because he wasn’t glad. He felt like a massive hole had been cut out off his life when he left.

Mike’s voice was kind and soft, “Will, it’s okay to miss him. You guys were in love. The way you looked at him… at each other... I know you hate him for how things ended but he treated you like gold.”

Will desperately wanted the conversation to end. He hated thinking about June these days. He had been completely lost in him and then, when he left for college, he felt completely lost without him. 

Mike continued, “I can understand how hating him makes it easier, but he got you through that year, and I’ll always be grateful for that.” 

Will felt embarrassed. That year… freshman year had spiraled someplace dark. He didn’t like thinking about that though. 

Will admitted, “I loved him so much. But he just… I hate him because of how much I loved him. He was my world but the second he went off to college…”

It hadn’t been a year yet. The memory was still sharp.   
________________________________________

They had planned everything. June would go to college at Berkeley in California so that Will could follow the next year. California was more liberal and it was where the movie industry was. Will could start his dream of being a special effects artist, creating the monsters that kept him up at night, turning his horrific nightmare into his art. They had made plans for their future. June had arranged his whole life so Will could be a part of it. But then, the phone call came.

June’s voice was nervous and far from his usual charm, “Will, I wish I could do this in person…”

Will felt his core freeze and tighten. He knew what was coming but he didn’t want to believe it. 

June continued, “I’ve met someone…” He sighed, “Okay. That’s a lie. I have met a lot of other people… like us. There are so many out of the closet here. We have been going to rallies and events and every time they invite me to a party I have to decline, because I don’t trust myself, Will.”

Will could barely speak, “What… what are you saying…?”

“Will, I haven’t been with anyone else but I know it’s only a matter of time. And I don’t want to go behind your back. I don’t want to lie. You deserve better than that. You deserve the truth.’’

Will shook his head, “June…”

“I love you, Will. I love all the dreams we’ve had. When I picture growing old, I picture it with you. But… if I stay with you, there will always be that ‘what if’. I want to see what it is like with other people. I want to know.”

“You can’t be serious. You aren’t fucking serious.” His voice was cracking and his tears flowed down his cheeks. 

He could hear June’s voice breaking too, “Will, I’m sorry. When you’re here, you’ll understand. You’ll want to know, too.”  
________________________________________

Will watched the woods start to fade into suburbs. He felt the tears welling and he didn’t want to risk driving. He pulled over. 

He apologized, “I’m sorry, Mike. I just need a minute.” He held the corners of his eyes to stop tears. He focused on breathing.

“Will, it’s okay.” There it was again. That voice that held him together in 8th grade. The voice that broke through when the demogorgon had held his mind. 

Will spoke, “I was just the only fish in a small pond and when he moved out to the ocean and found out there was more, I didn’t measure up.”

Mike said, “He’s an idiot for that. And he’ll regret losing you. You will be the fish that got away.”

Will chuckled. It was so strange. Mike was the one who lost someone, yet here he was comforting Will. But that was just Mike. He wanted to save everyone, even if it was his turn to be saved. 

“I thought I was supposed to be making you feel better,” Will joked.

“We’ll take turns.” Mike lips broke into that smile. 

Why did this have to be so hard? Why did Will always get his hopes up like this? Nothing would happen between them, no matter how much he wanted it. Will wished more than anything that he could just appreciate Mike for the good friend he was and leave it at that. 

Things would be easier in college, he told himself. He could be in the sea with June and kiss all the boys he wanted. Chase after guys that could actually return his affection. 

_________________

When Will got home he stared at the phone. 

A voice inside him yelled, “Don’t you dare.”

While the other asked, “But who else can I talk to?”

Will sighed, picked up the phone, and called the operator. “Berkeley, California, please? Yes, I accept the charges.”


	11. The Long-Distance Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhh....... I think I've developed June into a fully fledged character... >A< I'm sorry!! 
> 
> I promise this will be June's last appearance for a while, I promise. I may bring him back- when foreshadowing and other literary devices are needed. >3

A familiar voice answered the phone, “Andy and Stan’s Starter Stock Exchange, how may I help you?”

Will rolled his eyes, “Andy, it’s Will.”

“Did it sound legit?”

“Almost. You don’t actually scam people, right?” Will leaned against the wall of his kitchen. 

Andy replied sarcastically, “I’m hurt, Will.”

He was getting impatient, “Is June there?”

“He’s a first year law student, you think he ever leaves his room?”

He heard Andy call out, “Hey, June. Your cute ex is on the phone.”

Will grumbled. Andy was the reason Will dreaded the idea of a roommate. But a thought struck him. He asked Andy, “How do you know I’m cute?! You’ve never even seen me?”

“He’s still got your picture up on his wall, lover-boy.”

He heard some scuffling sounds and a distinct voice saying, “Give me the phone you, asshat!” Followed by mock kissy sounds. 

“Hey, Will.”

June’s voice had taken on a smooth and natural tone, flirtatious if he were to put a word to it. But that was June.

“Hey, asshole.” Will was pissed at him. June had lied to Mike and his friends, he was still mad about that. No matter how much he wanted to talk to him, this had to be addressed, first. He also wanted to knock that smug look that he knew was on his face.

“Ouch. What did I do? I’m 2,000 miles away.”

“You told Mike and everyone that I said sleepovers weren’t okay, anymore.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, THAT.”

“I wasn’t proud of that.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad you weren’t proud of lying to my friends.”

June sighed, “Do you want me to explain or do you prefer to keep chiding me? Whichever you want.”

Will huffed, June took the pause as permission and he went ahead. “In all honesty, I didn’t know how to handle it. You had a group of guy friends that not only accepted you for being gay, but were also still cool having sleepovers with you. I didn’t know what to do.”

“So you’re first thought was to go behind my back and tell my friends to alienate me?”

There was a silence. “Alienate you, huh? How many friends did you lose when you came out? Remind me.”

Will didn’t respond. He had used the wrong word. 

“You know how my coming out went so don’t you dare tell me how bad yours was. They don’t compare. Not even fucking close.”

Will was quiet. He was lucky and he knew it. The only person who shunned Will was his absentee father. Everyone in his life took some time to adjust, but they were all still there for him. He struck a nerve with June and felt guilty about it. He backed down from his offensive.

“Okay, that was a shitty word to use. I’m sorry.”

June seemed to have calmed down, “It was shitty of me to lie. I was jealous and a little worried, particularly about Mike.”

Will questioned, “Worried about what?”

“Well, I knew how you had felt about him. I knew about your kiss. And there was history between you two.”

“You were concerned about ME being faithful? Says the man-”

“If you recall, I broke up with you before I could cheat.”

“We apparently have different ideas on what that word means. Faithful means if you say you’re going to wait for me, you actually fucking wait, for longer than a month.”

“Will...”

Will steadied his breath. “I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about this. We only end up saying the same things to each other. So let’s just move on.”

“Ok. I am sorry about lying. I was stupid. You were my first boyfriend and I didn’t know that gay guys could have sleepovers without it being romantic or suggestive.”

“But you do now?”

“Uh… you know Andy’s straight, right?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So, I’m assuming that you wanted to talk about something other than me being a shitty boyfriend, right? What’s been going on in Hawkins?”

“Well…” Will wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to tell June about what happened in the two months since El. Still, he’d known her. He didn’t know everything but he had been a part of their group for a time, “Jane left town.”

“Like moved away?”

“More like ran away.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God. How’s Mike taking it?”

“Not well, as you can imagine. He’s just… he’s been closed off, lethargic. He hasn’t talked about it since it happened. But then, last night, he got drunk and…” 

Suddenly, it felt too intimate to say. He didn’t want to share that moment with June. It wasn’t out of respect for Mike’s privacy so much as it was THEIR moment. And Will knew that holding it back for that reason, was wrong.

He continued, “He just opened up and I saw just how sad he is. I just held him. I didn’t know what else to say or do. But the worst part is… I… I'm such a shitty person, June…” Will couldn’t bring himself to admit it, to put into words his guilt.

June sighed, “You still like him, don’t you?”

Will groaned, “I hate this. I want to shut it off. I just want to be there as his friend.”

“There’s no off switch, Will. This stuff doesn’t go away. They say it does with time, but that isn’t always true. If you’re asking for my advice, you need to put some distance between the two of you.”

“What?! No. You know how Mike and Jane were! They were inseparable; insanely in love! He’s fucking crushed! I’m not leaving him now!”

“Inseparable is not the word. It’s dependent. Mike relied on her a lot. Too much, in fact. He’s looking for someone to lean on, to fill that role. If you put yourself in that position you’re just going to get hurt. You will give all of yourself and get nothing in return.”

“I don’t need anything in return.”

“Okay, Saint William.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a saint, Will, the self punishing kind. He can’t love you the way you want to be loved. You’re only human. You’ll still want it and it’s just going to hurt you.” 

Will twisted the phone cord around his finger, not saying anything. He knew June was right, but putting distance between him and Mike now felt like he’d be abandoning him. He couldn't do it.

“Let him lean on Mike or Lucas. It doesn’t have to be you.”

It was selfish and Will knew it. 

June continued, “You don’t have to listen to me. I’m not here to lecture you. I gave you my advice. You can take it or leave it.”

“It’s good advice. It’s… I’ll sort it out.” Will looked at the time, he'd be charged by the minute and the minutes were adding up. "I've got to go, June."

“Okay. You call me again if things get rough.”

“I will.”

“It was really nice talking to you.”

There it was. That smooth voice that used to comfort him, to pull him closer. He had to get off the phone. Everything was coming back and it was too much. “Thanks for listening, June.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Good bye.”

Will hung up the phone, cringing at the awkward goodbye. It was like they didn’t know how to say goodbye without saying, “I love you.” It used to be a staple end to the conversations when they’d been together. Now there was always that pause. 

He walked into his room and flopped on the bed, groaning into the pillow. 

June’s voice still echoed in his head. He knew he was right about Mike. June could just read people in a way Will never could. 

Will sat up. This weekend needed to end. The only way that would happen is routine… and mixtapes. Will threw in a tape he’d made of his own and began cleaning his room. Shuffling his clothes back into order the way he wished he could sort out his life. 

It helped the Sunday pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So, in case you're wondering... some background on June:
> 
> He is a second generation Korean-American. His given name is Min-Joon, but he has shortened/ Americanized it to June. They met Will's sophomore year and they started dating that January. He typically does his hair in a pompadour and wears glasses. He is aesthetically Frank Sinatra (style) and James Dean (hair and mannerisms). You can picture him differently, but in my head, this is the gay boy that picks up Will during Mike's years with El. He distracts him, sweeps him off his feet, and cradles him in love. He is everything that the boy deserves for his first relationship. 
> 
> I gave him this relationship first because it was healthy when they were together. June is flawed, but it was a healthy relationship to contrast with what is to come. ((SHUT UP VAL!! STAP REVEALING STUFFFFSSSS!!)) That's all I'm gonna say for now. Hope you like it and enjoy. 
> 
> We will continue with our canon characters in the next chapter!


	12. The Second Party

That week, everything fell back into the familiar pattern. The party would meet up at Max’s locker (since it was the closest to the parking lot) where they’d argue over what particular movies to rent for that Friday, talk about club activities, and plot out new campaigns. 

On Thursday though, Mike brought up a new topic. 

“So, Eric Schmitt is having a party tomorrow.”

The entire conversation stopped dead and everyone stared at Mike. 

Max was the first to speak, “And…?”

Mike shrugged, “I was wondering if you guys wanted to go?”

Lucas chided, “Do you remember the shear amount of vomit you projected last weekend?”

Dustin chimed in, “I’m pretty sure this is like the thing moms get after they have a baby. They just forget the labor pain and say, ‘Sure, I’ll have another. The first time wasn’t so bad.’”

Max raised an eyebrow at Dustin, “So speaks the expert on the subject matter. Tell me, how many women have you seen give birth?”

Will asked, “You want to go, Mike?”

Mike averted his eyes, casually, “It had been kind of fun… loosening up, hanging someplace new…” He glanced at his friends and saw the looks of sheer disbelief. He immediately backed down. “Nevermind… it’s stupid. Let’s just do movie night.” The end of the day bell rang and Mike slung his backpack around his shoulder. He headed to Will’s car a little faster than everyone else. 

Dustin clutched his hair. “Guys, my heart is bleeding.”

Lucas scolded, “No, Dustin. Don’t you dare cave on this one! We had an agreement. Never the fucking hell again.”

“Did you see his face, Lucas? God, the fucking heartbreak.”

Max weighed in, “Going to these things is not gonna help him, Dustin.”

Lucas looked at Will, who knew what was coming. Their party was still a democracy. Two votes for Eric’s party and two votes against. Will was the deciding factor. 

Will offered, “Mike’s been keeping a lot of stuff inside him. That’s not really good for him either. He was able to vent after he drank. He got out a lot that I think he needed.”

Max mumbled, “Yeah. All over the side of the road.”

Lucas retorted, “You can’t be serious, Will. Drinking is not an okay coping mechanism.”

Will defended, “I’m not saying it is. But all he does anymore is go along with what we do. That’s not Mike. He hasn’t written for campaigns. He doesn’t offer any new movies or places to go. He’s asking us for this, Lucas.”

Lucas put his head in his hands, groaning, “One night. He gets sloppy like he did last weekend, then that’s the last party we go to.”

____________________________________

Lucas leaned towards Will, “This is the last fucking party we’re going to.”

Will watched as Mike was hanging off of Dustin, laughing at something he’d said. Dustin seemed a little drunk, but if one were to put numbers to it, Dustin was at a 5 and Mike was at a 9. Everyone else was maybe at a 3. Minus Will, who was always at a 0. Forever the driver, never the drunk. He preferred it that way. 

They sat around the fire outside. Eric’s house was around Dustin’s neck of the woods, where large houses were surrounded by large properties. Their group had huddled around the brick fire pit, away from most of the other party goers. It was still cold enough to see their breaths, but it was better than the claustrophobic heat inside. 

Mike leaned over and hugged Lucas from behind, slurring, “I love you guys. Seriously, all of you. I love you.”

Lucas was beyond annoyed. He seemed to be at a point where he had just resigned to the colossal mess that was a drunk Mike Wheeler.

Mike continued his drunken sonnet, “You know that you guys are like, a part of me, right? It’s crazy,” Mike gestured as if he had discovered gravity or the cure for cancer, “I wouldn’t be who I am now if I never met you.” 

This was a huge epiphany for him, but everyone else just felt uncomfortable. He was way more drunk than they were and nobody was looking forward to corralling him. But Mike was oblivious and pressed on, “If I never met you guys, I’d probably would have been a huge douchebag.” He chuckled at that. “Douche is one of my new favorite words. It tickles when you say it. I’m gonna use it all the time. Douche.”

Will handed Mike a cup of water. Mike didn’t realize what it was until he drank it. He looked at the cup confused, “It’s bad if your liquor starts tasting like water, right? Unless this is actually water.”

Will nodded, “It’s water, just drink.”

Mike smiled, swaying, “Will, you’re so cute, trying to water me. Like I’m a plant.” He doubled over, laughing. 

Dustin looked over nervously at Will. He leaned in towards him, “Let’s get him something to eat.”

Will got up and walked with him back inside, towards the kitchen. Dustin said, “Will, you don’t have to stay for this. My house is close enough, we can walk him there. You took care of him last week.”

Last week Will had promised himself not to let Mike sleepover again. He had logically told himself that it just wasn’t a good idea. But seeing Mike like this, he couldn’t help but feel compelled to take care of him. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he replied.

“Will. He’s had too many drinks and has forgotten…” Dustin’s voice trailed off searching for the right word.

“That I’m gay?”

“Boundaries.”

Will sighed, looking away. “So, what exactly are you worried about?” Will couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice. 

“That Mike is going to do something stupid and you’re going to get hurt. You still like him, don’t you?”

Will looked at him. “What? God! No! That was years ago!” 

How did Dustin know? How did he find out? Will did everything he could to hide it! Purposefully keeping space between them. Never lingering his glances for more than a few seconds. Yet, Dustin saw right through it.

“It’s been years since I liked Max. Even though I see her as a friend now, it’s hard for that feeling to completely go away. Especially when you see how awesome they are up close.” He was looking back at the fire, back at Max. But he didn’t let his eyes hold for long.

Will shook his head in denial, “It’s not like that.” He knew there was no point in denying it but he wished desperately that Dustin didn’t know.

“You can swear it up and down ‘til you’re blue in the face. But I see it, Will. I know what it looks like. If it was Max instead of Mike, and I was in your place, I’d hope you’d step in before something happened.”

Will felt so exposed. He couldn’t believe that it was so obvious to Dustin. Will thought he had hid it well, but apparently not. “Does everyone know?”

“No. I don’t think so. Like I said, I can tell ‘cause I know it.”

Will nodded, slowly. “I’ll drop off Max on my way.” He felt so embarrassed and ashamed. He couldn’t be there for Mike because of his goddamn feelings for him.

They walked back to the fire with a plateful of food. Dustin had loaded it with as many carbs and proteins as were available, in the hopes of absorbing some of the alcohol in Mike’s system.

Will went over to Max and told her that he would drive her home while Dustin informed Lucas. Max into Lucas and kissed him goodbye. Their ‘I love you’s whispered in the kiss. 

As Max and Will headed up the hill back to where his car was parked, he could hear Mike. 

“Where are Will and Max going?”

Lucas replied, “Will’s gotta drive Max home.”

“Then, we should all go,” Mike replied. Will didn’t look back. He kept moving. 

Dustin said, “You’re gonna stay at my place tonight. We’ll walk you.”

Will risked a glance back. He saw the hurt and confusion on Mike’s face. He knew something was wrong. Will turned his head back and coached himself to get to the car. It hurt. The distance hurt. 

They got into his car and shut the door. Will leaned on the steering wheel. He hated himself more than he could say. He hated this. The old self-hating mantra from freshman year was waking up and it didn’t matter that Max was there. It whispered it’s dangerous words and it took all of Will’s self-control not to pinch himself. 

He could feel Max’s eyes on him. 

“Will, are you okay?”

No. No, he wasn’t okay. He was fundamentally broken. He wanted to cry, but not in front of Max. 

“I’m fine,” he lied. How was he supposed to tell her? How was he supposed to explain that he was being sent away because he was still in love with Mike? What could he say?

Max soothed, “It’s hard to watch someone you care about hurt themselves.”

Will turned his head to look at her. Was she talking about him or Mike?

“I hate seeing him like this as much as you do. Well…” she said, “Probably not as much as you. You’ve known him for longer.”

Will nodded absentmindedly, relieved that she had made up an explanation for him.

“I had to watch it with my dad… It… I hated it. It’s like watching someone walk into a house that you know is going to collapse and not being able to stop them.” She sniffed. He couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or if she was holding back tears.

Will looked away, “We can still stop him though, right? You don’t think this is a permanent thing, do you?”

She shrugged, “Mike is using drinking like a crutch. I don’t know if this is permanent, but it could be.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Will said firmly. Mike wasn’t the kind to get addicted to something. That wasn’t him. But then again… June’s words echoed, ‘Inseperable isn’t the word; It’s dependent.’ 

Max’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you think we can do to stop it?”

“Not take him to parties anymore. Finding other ways, other things to distract him.”

Max looked away. He could tell that she wanted to explain that it wasn’t easy or that he was simplifying a complex situation. But she didn’t say anything more.

Will started the car. For the rest of the drive, they listen to Will’s tape in silence.


	13. The Movie Night

Mike looked at Will’s receding back. He saw him look back then quickly turn away. Something was wrong. He had done something. He could feel it. Mike looked at the two friends that were coaxing him back to the fire.

He looked at Dustin, “Was it something I said?” 

Dustin bit his lip. He didn’t usually hold back like this. Mike looked to Lucas. He’d give him a straight answer. 

Lucas sighed, “Mike, you’re… you’re being obnoxious.”

Dustin scolded, “Lucas!”

Lucas protested, “Oh, don’t give me that!” 

Lucas turned back to Mike and didn’t hold back. “Mike, you know how Will felt about you. Hanging all over him, calling him cute, saying ‘I love you guys,’ that stuff means something to him. And you aren’t the only one who is feeling fucking lonely. Will has been alone since October. Of all the fucking months that his asshole boyfriend had to break up with him, it was fucking October. You KNOW what he has been through this year.”

Dustin hissed, “Lucas, for God’s sake!”

Lucas bit his tongue. He knew he’d taken it too far. Mike was in pain, too. 

Mike looked into the fire, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” he slurred. 

Lucas’s voice was quiet, “Let’s just get you home, okay? We can sort everything out tomorrow.”

Dustin looked at Lucas, “We gotta get him to eat first.”

Mike cringed, “He doesn’t want to eat.” 

“Come on, Mike. You get something in your stomach, or you’ll be regretting it tomorrow.” Dustin held out the plate.

Mike looked at his friends, suddenly feeling like a burden. He hated the feeling and wished he could have gone home with Will. He never made him feel like that. It was something that they had done for each other since Will’s episodes had started all those years ago. They took turns holding each other up. Or, at least, he thought they did. But he was being selfish, he told himself. He had obviously hurt Will. He’d forgotten himself. He felt so stupid. His head swirled around with dark thoughts. He chugged the rest of his drink, feeling more self-loathing as he did. 

“Mike, stop!” Dustin took the empty cup out of his hands and held up the hamburger he’d brought outside. “Eat.”

Mike took the burger and bit into it. He wasn’t hungry but he ate anyway. He figured it was the least he could do for them. 

_________________________________________________

They had kept Mike at the party as long as they could in the hopes of sobering him up. It had worked somewhat. He didn’t throw up that night. They carried Mike up Dustin’s steps. Dustin’s mom slept like the dead on weekends. Dustin was relieved and hopeful that maybe his mom wouldn’t find out.

But when morning came, so did Mike’s violent hangover. He had managed to get to the toilet bowl in time, though the acoustics in the bathroom sounded like he was puking into a loudspeaker. 

There was no way she wouldn’t hear that. 

Dustin saw her coming down the hallway while he’d been standing in front of the bathroom door. He immediately shut it.

“Uhhh…. Mike had some bad burgers last night.”

She looked at the doorway, and listened to Mike praying to the porcelain gods, “I swear I’m never drinking again.” As more violent sounds followed.

Dustin closed his eyes. Son of a bitch, Mike. 

She raised her eyebrows. She did not seem awake enough to deal with this. “I’m glad you’re not the one in there. Can you understand why this isn’t a good idea?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I rest my case. You’re cleaning up whatever mess he’s made.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

She nodded and went to the kitchen to make coffee.

Dustin leaned his head against the door, as if he had just survived an encounter with the thestlehydra. 

_________________________________________________

On Saturday night, the party got together for their weekly movie screening at Will’s house. After Friday night’s disaster, they all wanted desperately to piece back some form of normalcy. 

Mike’s symptoms had mostly subsided, minus the headache, and he had avoided going back home, lest his parents recognized the telltale signs of a hangover.

Dustin, Max, and Lucas had each brought over their own picks for movie night. 

Max was trying to make her argument for Friday the 13th VII. “Okay, I know that we were disappointed in the theaters, but I think it at least deserves a second watch.”

Dustin made an “X” with his arms, “No way. My brain is still trying to cleanse that abomination from my brain. The franchise is dead and New Blood killed it.”

Max shook her head, “Oh, please. Like you don’t have worse things taking up your headspace.”

Lucas cut in, “Can we put bad horror movies on hold for a while? Maybe mix it up try a good movie for a change?”

Dustin raised an eyebrow, “And your suggestion is...?”

“Game of Death featuring the King of Kung Fu himself.” He held up a videocassette featuring Bruce Lee on a worn cover.

Dustin shook his head, “You own that movie and we can watch it anytime.”

Mike rolled his eyes, “We have seen that movie so many times already, Lucas.”

Max chuckled, “At least it’s better than The Last Dragon.”

Lucas looked mock offended and pointed at Max, “Don’t mess with Leroy.” 

Will smiled, “Oh, God. There was a solid year that you lived and breathed that movie. How many times did we watch it?”

Mike grinned, “Only every time we went to Lucas’s house.”

“How many times did I have to watch the Hobbit? You don’t hear me complaining.” Lucas retorted.

“That’s because The Hobbit is actually good,” Mike fired back.  
Lucas replied, “If I recall correctly, you both were doing those roundhouse kicks with me in the backyard.”

Max interrupted, “Alright, guys! Let’s actually watch something!”

It was finally put to a roll. They all rolled D10s*. Highest roll got to decide the movie.

Dustin won, so they put in RoboCop. They all sat down with a huge bowl of popcorn, passing it back and forth. As they watched the movie, Will could feel Mike sneaking glances, like he was uncertain and trying to get a read on him. 

Mike probably felt like it had been his fault that he’d left, if he’d remembered anything at all. Once the movie ended and the next movie was being decided, Will offered to make more popcorn and headed to the kitchen. 

As Will got the popcorn bag from the cabinet he heard footsteps follow him into the kitchen. He looked to see Mike.

“Hey, Will.” He grabbed a glass from drying rack, avoiding eye contact.

“Hi, Mike?” Mike was being awkward.

“Um, I’m sorry about last night.”

Will took off the plastic sleeve of the popcorn and put the bag in the microwave. “Nothing to be sorry for. You were drunk, no big deal.” He plugged in the numbers.

“Will…” Mike paused. The air was filled with a tightness and suddenly Will knew. He knew Dustin told him.

Will shut the microwave door a little harder than he meant to. “What did he say? What did Dustin say to you?” Will hissed out. He couldn’t believe him.

“It was Lucas actually.”

“What?!” How did Lucas know? Apparently Will didn’t hide it as well as he thought he did.

Mike spoke under his breath, “He just said I was being obnoxious and I crossed some lines.”

“Goddamnit!” Will whispered. “Tell me what he actually said.”

“Will, it’s okay.”

 

“No, Mike. It isn’t. Please just tell me what he said.”

“He said that… the things I was saying and everything I was doing… that it… they meant something different… to you and I was being an asshole for ignoring...” Mike was blushing and looked guilty.

“I can’t fucking stand it when they do this. I hate it when they step in like this and speak on my behalf, as if I can’t handle this shit on my own. I hate it when they tiptoe around me like this. If I was upset, if you really had crossed a line, I would have said something!”

“Would you?”

“Yeah.” Will turned to Mike and saw the seriousness on his face.

“Will, if you don’t want people to speak on your behalf. You actually have to say where your lines are.”

“I do.”

“Not really. You take on way too much and keep so much in. You don’t actually say when something is bothering you. I KNOW you can handle stuff. You handle way more than you should. When something is affecting you, promise me you’ll tell me. If I cross a line when I’m drinking, tell me. I’d rather hear it from you.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “You could just not drink,” he offered.

“I... yeah. I know.”

“Drinking like this can’t be helping. You just… the next day it’s like you spend most of it in pain and the other half apologizing.”

“I know. That was the last one we’ll go to.”

“You mean it?”

Mike nodded, “Yeah.” 

Mike knew that was a lie, though.  
____________________________________

As the night wore on the party slowly started dispersing. First, Lucas and Max left to have some alone time before the night was over. Dustin hung out for a while and the boys created a monstrous sundae with way too much chocolate syrup. They played one of Dustin’s new favorite games- Magic the Gathering. 

Will had already gone out several turns ago. He was getting tired so he broke out his sketchbook. Drawing helped keep him awake. Mike’s playing field of cardstock angels was taken down when Dustin made his necromancers bring back Mike’s entire graveyard under his control. The game was over.

As he returned the cards to their perspective decks, Dustin lectured, good-naturedly, “You guys keep missing crucial steps.”

Mike rolled his eyes, “It feels like you’re inventing new rules.”

“Each card has its own set of new rules but the overall system is the same. Untap, upkeep, draw, combat, resolve, end turn. Not that hard. If you’d given me those minuses before my combat phase, you would have won.”

Mike raised an eyebrow at Dustin. Will kept a smile tucked in his cheeks. The game was perfectly suited to Dustin, who could practically memorize passages from the Monster Manual. He liked complex things with such a fiery passion. Will had been so mad at Dustin before, but the curly haired boy made it damn-near impossible to hold a grudge. 

They shot the shit on the couch for a while before Dustin left. It was an old habit of Mike’s, being the last to leave Will’s. He had used to stay later so that he could see Eleven, back when she was still in hiding. The Byers’ place was a safe zone where the whole party had been able to hang out. It had become a sanctuary to Mike. 

Mike peeked over at what Will was sketching. It was some kind of creature with long tentacles and wings. It was horrifying but incredibly rendered. Will had only improved over the years. His sketchbooks tended towards dark subject matter. It helped him to take control of his fears. On paper, he could manipulate them, tear them up, or make them beautiful. He turned the shadows he saw into new creatures, ones that he hoped would be on the movie screen someday.

Mike leaned, “That’s incredible, Will. Did you come up with that?” 

Will seemed to break from his trace. “Oh, no. Not this one.” He put the book aside for a moment. “Actually, I want to show you something.” He stood up from the couch and went to his room, pulling a new manual off the shelf. He walked over to Mike and handed him a book called, “Call of Cthulhu.” 

Mike delicately touched the cover. There was something magic about a new manual. It seemed to tremble with possibilities. He opened it up and looked through the book, absorbed by the artwork, words, and potential. 

“This is awesome. Insanely dark, but awesome. When did you get this?”

“Last weekend, you had mentioned it briefly… at the party… I looked into it and it really inspired me, so I picked it up.”

Mike looked up, surprised. Will was not the kind to turn around and buy something on an impulse. He tended to think over purchases for weeks to months at a time. 

Will continued, “I thought… maybe you could write something and I could draw it.”

Mike looked at the book, running his fingers along the pages. It had been for him, of course. Will wouldn’t spend money like that on himself, but for his friends, he was all too ready to give. Mike could see scenes play in his head. Old dusty wheels of inspiration were turning again. He almost felt like he could start writing. But then he felt the cloud that had hung over him the past few months return. Writing suddenly seemed like too much energy and work. All at once, something that had been meant as a kindness felt like a burden. 

He had to be honest, “I don’t know if I can write, Will.”

“You don’t have to. But you can take it and look it over anyway.”

Mike smiled. Will understood. He always did.


	14. The Midnight Call

Will sat, perched on his chair with his knees up like an easel for the illustration board. His fingers were covered in black charcoal. Newspapers were spread across his desk. His desk lamp didn’t make for the most ideal lighting, but it was the best he had. Will’s portfolio had plenty of horrific creatures: designs for aliens, studies of different textures like skins, scales, and fur, animal combinations, renderings of different beings from folklore. But what he needed to work on, according to his teacher, were the basics: still life drawings (which he hated), and figure drawing (which always just felt embarrassing). 

Ms. Murphy had offered that he do a still-life self-portrait, to make it more interesting. So, he had arranged a series of objects, representing different parts of his life. He had some of his favorite books- Lord of the Rings, Starship Troopers, and a collection of short stories by Stephen King. Art materials were there, of course, next to the mixed tapes and headphones. A spattering of dice filled in the empty areas of the table. And there was, of course, the Supercom. It sucked up batteries like crazy but it was still so important to him. It was his lifeline to his friends. 

Will was lost in thought, then jolted when the radio crackled, “Hey Will!”

He picked it up, “Holy fucking shit, Lucas! What the hell??”

“Sorry, Will. I’m guessing you got home okay, though.”

“Yeah. All good. Thanks for checking.”

“No problem. Sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I was drawing is all.”

“Okay. I… I just had a feeling and wanted to check.”

Will stopped for a moment. Tonight had felt weird. It was Friday, their normal movie night, but Mike had skipped out. He had told Lucas that it was so he could write for a new campaign, but Will knew better. Mike was depressed and sometimes being around people, even his best friends, was still exhausting. Will had felt it himself at times, and so he understood enough to recognize it. 

Will replied, “It just felt weird because Mike wasn’t there.”

“Yeah… I just… I wish I knew what we could do to help.”

“I know. Me too. Did you check up on him?”

“He’s not answering his com. I think he went to sleep.” 

That didn’t sit right. Mike never left it off. It was his only connection to Eleven. 

But Will didn’t want to make Lucas worry. “Yeah. He sleeps a lot these days.” He was probably just being paranoid. El wouldn’t need to have the com on to talk to Mike anyway. Maybe he left it off to save batteries.

“Yeah. Well, tonight was fun anyway. Good night, Will.”

“Good night, Lucas.”

After hanging up, Will turned to Mike’s channel. He tried calling him. “Mike. It’s Will. Are you there? Over.”

Nothing. He tried again, but there was only static. 

Will sighed and returned the Supercom back to its station in his still life. He only then realized that he’d gotten charcoal all over it. He groaned and proceeded to wipe it off as best he could. 

Will tried desperately to focus on his drawing but the conversation with Lucas had left a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right. He threw in a Sonic Youth tape and cranked the music up to drown out his thoughts. He had just turned the tape to the B side when he heard the phone ring. 

He jumped out of his chair, leaped over to the side of his mattress and picked up the extension he’d had on his bedside table.

“Hello?” He answered. He expected it to be his mom, she was working late at The Hideaway, the local pub in town. 

Will was surprised at the voice that answered. “Hi, umm... Will?” 

“Angela??” His first girlfriend. The one who had asked him to dance, held his hand in the movie theater, been his first kiss. The first heartbreak he’d ever caused. He hadn’t spoken to her since freshman year. Why was she calling him after midnight?

“Sorry, Will. I know it’s late but I didn’t know who else to call.”

Will voice teemed with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mike. He’s here, at Tamryn’s place and he’s wasted.”

“What?!” Will was dumbstruck. What was he doing there?!

“I thought he came over with one of you guys but I don’t think he did. I think he’s here alone.”

“Oh, my God! I’ll be right over. Where does Tamryn live?”

“On Elmswood Ave, around the corner from the 7 Eleven. It’s the blue house with all the irises in the front yard.”

“Okay. I’ll be right over. Thank you for calling me.”

“No problem, Will.” The way she said his name, he could still hear the endearment. He returned the phone to the receiver. He threw on his shoes and grabbed his keys. 

He rushed out the door and started the car. He was furious at Mike, but also insanely worried. This was so unlike him. Even though the drive only took 10 minutes, it felt like forever. 

Once he saw the blue house, he parked the car and scanned the yard, in case he saw Mike hunched over in the bushes. His search turned up empty. So he went to the front door and knocked.

One of Angela’s friends from drama club opened the door. She frowned when she saw him. “Who invited you?”

“No one. Angela called me. I’m picking up my friend, Mike. Have you seen him?”

She rolled her eyes, apparently still holding a grudge for breaking her best friend’s heart three years ago. “No I haven’t. But Angela’s over there. You can ask her.”

He carefully stepped around her. “Thanks.”

He walked over to Angela. She was holding a red cup and talking to another guy from the play. Her eyes caught Will’s, “Will!” She turned to the boy, “I’ll be right back.” She strode over to meet him.

“Hi, Angela. Thanks for calling me. Where’s Mike at?”

She seemed a little awkward. “I don’t know. Last I saw he was wondering around the kitchen. But that was a while ago.”

“I’ll go look for him.”

“Yeah. Will?”

“Yeah?”

 

“H-how have you been?”

The question surprised him. She genuinely cared. It really did hurt, how good she was to him. He really wished he could have loved her the way she had loved him. “I’ve been okay.”

“Are you still with June?”

“No. We broke up a while ago.” He felt anxious to leave and look for Mike. Why was she trying to strike up a conversation?

“Oh. I’m sorry. Well, umm… I never got to tell you congratulations on winning that art scholarship from Harrison.”

“Thank you.” Suddenly he realized it. She was looking for closure. He was uncertain of what to say. What could he say?

There was an awkward pause. For a moment, Will thought he would choke on the words but he swallowed and spoke the words he’d repeated in his head so many times. All the things he should have said to her.

“Angela... I’m sorry for the way I ended things. They had to end, but I’m sorry I hurt you so much.”

Her breath caught and she blinked. 

His stomach flutter nervously at speaking so candidly. But he had to say it. They were graduating this year, he wanted to put things right, “You really were a fantastic girlfriend. And you’re a great person. And I’m glad you found people that see that.” She had really done much better for herself. Being in the drama club had helped her find a group of people aside from Will’s. She flourished there.

Angela blushed, “I’m glad you did, too. I mean you always had them but… well… you know. Anyway… Um… Would you… um… will you be coming to see the play?”

“Sure.”

She smiled, “Um… I should let you get to Mike. Thank you, Will.” She turned back to her friend, quickly wiping her eyes.

Will steadied his breath and headed towards the kitchen. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He had always felt so guilty for hurting her. It felt good to be forgiven; to have something unspoken communicated. 

Will shook away his thoughts. He still needed to find Mike. He began asking around but no one had seen him or they were too drunk for a straight answer. 

Will did laps around the inside of the house. When he went outside, there was Steph with the cigarette, or what looked like a cigarette. She was watching the people inside the house, dazed. 

“Hi, Steph.”

She looked up at him, unfazed. “Hello, gayboy.”

He clutched his fists. 

“I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“I don’t really care. I’m just asking if you’ve seen Mike.”

“Ooooh. Babysitting him again?”

Will sighed, impatiently. “Have you seen him, or not?”

“Jesus. Who shoved a stick up your ass. Oh wait, sorry. You’d probably like that.” She was laughing. That probably wasn’t a cigarette. It smelled like skunk. 

“Fuck you, Stephanie.” He turned to go back inside. 

“You want to know where he is, don’t you?”

Will turned. “Are you actually going to tell me?”

“Yeah. Also, you should tell people to fuck off more often. It suits you.”

“Stephanie, for God’s sake! Where is he?”

She nodded in the direction of the fence gate. “He went out the front.”

“How long ago?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes? I wasn’t keeping track.”

Will booked it, pushing the tall, wooden fence gate open. He went around the side of the house out to the front yard. He looked left and right up the sidewalk. The street lamps lit up the corners of the block. He couldn’t see anyone. What if Mike was trying to walk home? Tamryn’s house was at least 15 blocks away from Mike’s house. If he was as drunk as he’d been the other night, Will knew he wouldn’t get past three blocks. He bolted to his car. He would just drive around. Mike couldn’t have gotten very far. 

Will got in and started up the car. 

He heard a voice purr from behind, “There you are.”

Will nearly jumped out of his skin. “WHAT THE FUCK!” He turned to see Mike in the back, leaning against the driver’s seat. “MIKE?!”

“I’m sorry.” He seemed genuinely concerned that he’d scared Will. He sat up but was swaying. 

Anger boiled in Will’s chest. “No! No. You want to be sorry for something? Be sorry for lying! You told Lucas that you were going to write for a campaign! You told me that you were done with these fucking parties! You were the most honest out of all of us and you lied to everyone!”

Mike seemed stunned at Will’s anger. He recoiled, leaning his head back and covered his face with his arm. He mumbled something but Will couldn’t hear it. 

Will forced himself to calm down. “Why, Mike? Why did you come here? Why did you lie?”

Mike’s voice was barely audible, “I am tired of being a burden.”

“Since when are you a burden?”

“Getting drunk like this. Nobody wants to deal with me, but… I don’t want to stop, Will. This is the only way I get it to stop.”

“Get what to stop?”

“The stupid record in my mind. It’s like my brain is stuck on this loop of just blaming myself and feeling helpless. It doesn’t stop. But when I drink, it sort of goes away. For a while, I stop thinking about her. It’s distracting. But no one else wants to be around me like this. I’m stupid and obnoxious. So, I just wanted to feel this without getting in anyone’s way.” 

Without hesitation, Will got out of the car and into the back seat. Mike lifted up his arm.

Will said, “You’re not a burden, Mike. And you definitely aren’t stupid! But getting drunk like this isn’t healthy. It’s supposed to be done for fun. If you’re using booze like medicine to forget her… don’t you see how it could be a problem? How you could start depending on it?”

Mike stared at the roof of the car. The conversation seemed to be somewhat sobering. “It’s not forever. I just need this for a little while. Just until I can get out of Hawkins. It’ll be easier, then.”

“Is that another lie?”

“I… I hope not....”

He asked, “So, what’s going to happen now? You’ll keep going to parties?”

Mike looked over, uncertain. “I don’t know.”

Will drew a shaking breath, “I don’t want you ever going to one of these alone again, Mike. What if you passed out while you were walking home? You’re lucky it had been Angela and her friends here. What if Troy is at the next party? You will have more to worry about than someone drawing a dick on your face. If he saw you drunk God knows what he could do to you. You understand how dangerous this is, don’t you?”

Mike seemed frustrated, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I could tell you I’ll never go to another one again, but I can’t lie to you anymore. I know you’re right but I know I’m not going to stop. Everyone hates coming to these things, so I’m not just gonna drag them around. So, what do you want me to say?”

He searched his friend’s face. Mike truly was lost. Will didn’t know what more he could say. There was no way to convince him. So, instead, he offered, “I’ll drive you.”

“What?”

“I’ll drive you to the parties.” Mike sat up, looking so grateful. Will added sternly, “BUT! When I say it’s time to go, we go. When I give you water, you drink it. If I tell you you need to eat, you won’t fight me. Understand?”

Mike just wrapped his arms around Will, burrowing his head in Will’s shoulder. “Thank you, Will. Thank you.”

Will knew what he was doing was wrong. This was enabling him. But it would keep Mike safe, he told himself. The reasoning didn’t comfort him. And it didn’t help that he was enjoying the embrace.

Mike had fully leaned into the hug in drunk fashion. He didn’t understand that the hug was lasting too long. He didn’t seem to care that his nose was in the crook of Will’s neck or that his breath was pure, stunning warmth on his friend’s skin. 

Before Will could stop himself, his hand was in Mike’s hair, stroking through those thick locks, the way his mom did when he was upset. He felt his brain catch up and immediately pulled his hand away. That wasn’t the way friends comforted each other. It was too much, too intimate. All of this was too much. 

Will broke the silence, “Where should I take you?”

Without lifting his head, Mike asked, “Can we go back to your house, please? I don’t want to go home like this.” 

Mike’s breath danced on his neck. Will couldn’t have said no to him, even if he tried, “Sure.”

“Thank you,” Mike breathed. Will felt Mike’s lips form the words against his neck. Will’s heart was beating out of his chest. Mike had to feel that. He had to know. But then again, he was drunk. Will doubted he noticed much of anything at this point. 

Will could barely speak, “Don’t fall asleep on me. I still have to drive you home- to my place, I mean. You taking the backseat or shotgun?”

Mike smiled, lifting himself up, “Shotgun.”

“Alright. Then, get a move on.” 

Mike scooted out a little clumsily, but he could still hold himself up. They got out the backseat and into the front. 

Will shifted the car into gear and Mike rolled down his window. As they drove, Will took glances at Mike, watching the wind rushing through his hair. A part of him felt ridiculously happy that he could be with Mike in this moment and happy that the arrangement they’d made would offer many more secret moments like this, where he’d have Mike all to himself. Will knew this was selfish. He knew it was wrong. But the feeling was there all the same.


	15. A Nostalgic Movie Night

Will opened the door with Mike’s arm slung around his shoulder. Although Mike seemed okay to walk on his own, he had stumbled a bit on the stairs and Will didn’t want to take any chances. 

He was leading Mike to the kitchen to get him some water. Mike bumped into the leg of the chair, causing a huge scraping sound.

Mike shushed the table, then whispered, “Sorry.”

Will replied, at a normal volume, “You don’t have to whisper, Mike. My mom’s not home.”

Mike sat down, confused, and turned to double check the time. “Melvald’s isn’t open this late.” 

Will was quiet as he filled Mike’s cup at the sink. “She picked up a second job… at The Hideaway.” He felt so embarrassed saying it. Not that there was anything wrong with bartending, but he knew that she was treated differently there. More men were trying to start up conversations with her in town. She’d chalk it up to them being regulars but he could tell: they were hitting on her. Although she wasn’t comfortable, she let their comments wash over her. And Will hated it.

“Are you okay?” 

Will realized how furrowed his brows had been. He shook himself out of his thoughts and brought himself back into the room. “Yeah, fine.” He handed Mike the cup. 

Mike folded his arms and rested his chin on them, looking up at Will. “What’s wrong?” Mike asked.

Why did he have to be so goddamn cute?

Will sighed, “It’s just… my mom is struggling for money. And I know she is but she won’t let me help. I’m not allowed to work more than a few hours a week or she’s worried that my grades will slip. I try to give her money and she refuses to take it, despite the fact that the bills keep rolling in. I’ve tried using the money to buy groceries, but she yells at me that I need to save that money for college. So, I’ve pretty much just had to slip money into her purse or around the house so she doesn’t realize it.”

“Have you talked to Jonathan about it?”

“No… cause then he’ll get worried and start trying to send money home. And New York is so expensive, there’s no way he could afford to. I don’t want to put that on him.”

“Jesus, so it’s your entire family.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You. Your mom. Jonathan. It’s like none of you want to worry the other but end up making each other worry anyway. I feel like there’s a name for that kind of comedy… what is it? Satirical? Ironic?” He rolled his head from one side to the next.

Will shrugged. “We don’t do that all the time. I can talk to my mom about stuff. And Jonathan too.”

“You talk to him more in a week than I talk to my sister in a month.”

“Maybe you should talk to Nancy a little more.”

“ Maybe you should trust Jonathan enough to tell him this stuff, if it’s worrying you. Stop the worry-go-round and get off.”

Will raised his eyebrows, “The worry-go-round?”

“I think the analogy got away from me. But it is kind of what you all do.” Mike lifted a finger and swirled it around in the air. 

Will shook his head, but was smiling. He kind of liked how Mike was still sincere and listened, even though he was tanked. 

Mike sat up, with his bright idea face. “You know what? Let’s have a movie night!”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, Mike. And you’re practically falling asleep.”

“Well guess, what? I invoke Second Wind!”

Will looked completely befuddled, “What?”

“There are some guys at the comic book store that LARP and it’s a spell where you get all your abilities back.”

“Larp?”

“Live Action Role Play.”

“Role play? Like table topping?”

“Kind of, but you dress as your character and fight with fake weapons.”

Will raised his eyebrows. It sounded a little like a bunch of people playing pretend but at the same time, there was an allure to it. How many times had he drawn Will the Wise and the other members of the party? How many Halloweens did they all talk about dressing like their D&D characters? They only did one time, but it always used to be an idea they talked about.

Will asked, “Is that a thing you’d want to do?”

He mulled it over, “Maybe? I don’t know. It requires more energy than I have right now…”

“But I thought you weren’t tired. Maybe it’s time for bed?”

“No way! We are watching all the movies our 8 year old selves obsessed over.” He wandered over to the TV and opened the small cabinet underneath, scanning the videos, “Starting with…”

Will finished, “The Hobbit?”

Mike turned over his shoulder and held the movie up. “It’s like your a mind reader.”

Will sat on the couch. “You won’t make it through the credits.”

Mike popped the movie in, turned on the TV, and sat down next to Will. “Look at Will the Wise. First, he reads minds, then he tells the future. What other strange powers does he have?”

Will covered Mike’s eyes, “The power to make you sleep.”

Mike mocked falling asleep and collapsed in Will’s lap, who immediately felt the heat rush to his face. 

Will tried to cover up his racing heart, “Oh, good! It worked. Good night!”

Mike turned his head so that he was looking up at Will, “You wish.”

“Get up or I’m turning the movie off.”

“But your lap is comfy.”

“And my feet are falling asleep.”

“Aha! You can’t turn off the movie if I don’t get up.”

Will grabbed the remote and clicked. The screen went black. 

“Hey!” Mike clumsily sat up and tried to get the remote from Will’s hands. 

Will switched the remote between hands, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Come on! Turn it back! Nostalgic movie night, Will!”

Will snorted and handed Mike the remote back. The scuffle had the desired effect of getting Mike off of his lap and relieving some of the tension he’d been feeling. 

Mike quickly turned the movie back on. “Oh good! It’s still on the previews.”

Will watched the light from the movie illuminate his friend’s face. Mike had tucked his long legs up under him and was absorbed as the movie began with the familiar twangs of the guitar and the narrator talking with a voice like an old oak tree. He felt as if the clock had rewound 10 years. 

They would spend weekends like this- curled up on the couch, close together because it didn’t use to matter. Elbows touching, knees knocking into one another as they’d munch on popcorn and watch movies, enthralled at the adventures on the screen. There used to be a familiar space that they’d share. They were inseparable. 

Will missed it desperately. He missed the simplicity of it. Mike and Will were affectionate kids. After the occasional fight, they would wrap each other in these big hugs and apologize. There had been a few months in Kindergarten where all Will wanted to do was play Puppies. A pretend game that usually involved some form of them being sad, lonely dogs huddling together for shelter before getting adopted by a family and becoming brothers. And then, of course, all the hundreds of small, makeshift forts they built, where they barely had enough room for each other. The closeness of their whispered secrets and plans- the effortless intimacy- it had been a constant for so long. That was until...

“Will?” Mike seemed to have noticed Will was staring at him. 

“Huh?” Oh, no! He thought. He had been careless. “Sorry, I just- I got lost in thought. Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Just-” Will couldn’t bring himself to mention it. The words his father said that had ruined it for them, when he started feeling ashamed for that childhood intimacy. Will said, “All the stupid games we used to play. I miss it. Being little, some parts anyway.”

Mike smiled, “Yeah. We need to do a full on memory lane walk this weekend.”

“We aren’t bringing that puppy game back though.”

Mike laughed, “I don’t think there is a bench big enough for us to crawl under. But tomorrow, we’re gonna fix Castle Byers. It needs some serious repairs.”

“You think your head will be able to handle hammering tomorrow?”

Mike looked at Will like he was crazy, “Of course I will. I’m not drunk, so I’m not gonna be hung over.”

“You’re not drunk?”

“No. I told you: Second Wind. I’m completely sober.”

“Right,” Will said, smirking.

They watched the movie for a while longer before Will started to see Mike’s head nod. At first, his head would fall on his chest and he’d catch himself. But then he started to sway a bit until hid head was resting on Will’s shoulder. 

He felt his heart swell inside his chest. He felt pure elation in every fiber. Yet, the joy was followed quickly by guilt and he felt weighed down by his own secrets. Suddenly, he wanted Mike to know everything.

While Bilbo Baggins found Golem on the screen, Will debated back and forth with himself. It could ruin everything. Mike would get weird around him again. 

After he had come out, they both felt insanely awkward around each other. For a while it seemed like everything changed. Over all the years they had been friends, everything had felt so natural and effortless. But suddenly, they had to figure out how they had done it before. Casual signs of affection were met with a double take- Mike’s uncertainty of how it could be read. It had been frustrating to say the least, and even hopeless at times. 

Then, there was a moment- during the first sleepover that they’d had since coming out -and something clicked.* After that, things started to return to normal and it almost felt effortless again. 

Confessing to Mike meant that awkwardness might come back. But bottling it up meant lying. It meant putting himself in a situation where he might do something stupid- like kiss Mike. But he couldn't keep it in, not now. Not when Mike was being just so... perfect.

He delicately touched the ends of Mike’s hair. He voice shook as he whispered, “I still like you, Mike.” He held his breath, but Mike kept making those soft, sleepy sighs. 

Will confessed, “I never stopped. And being with you… like this…” He looked down at his sleeping friend’s face, the boy he had always had tucked in the corners of this heart. He had watched summers of freckles appear on his face. He looked at the tiny crinkles beside Mike's eyes, the only mark of countless hours of laughter they'd shared. He watched the small breaths escape from Mike's delicate lips. “I don’t think I can stop myself from falling for you.” He pressed his head against Mike’s. 

His guilt pleaded for Mike to wake up, to hear his confession. But there was a dueling and desperate hope that Mike would stay asleep. Will waited but Mike didn’t stir. He sighed. His cover would survive another day. 

He reached for the remote and turned the TV off. The sudden silence seemed to wake Mike. He groggily objected, “Hey! I was watching that!”

Will retorted, “I think your eyes need to be open to watch something.”

Mike swayed, eyes still closed, “Well, I was listening.”

Will’s heart leapt. Had he heard, then? He recovered, “Oh yeah? What part were we on?”

“Umm… Gandalf using the Foe Hammer.”

WIll felt a wave of relief. “Nope. Bilbo just found the ring and Gollum.”

“-Swhat I meant.”

“Okay. Time for bed.”

Mike began to groan. 

Will interrupted, “‘Please don’t fight me on this, Mike. I’m tired.”

Mike surrendered and attempted to stand up. But his eyes were still closed and he seemed about to fall over. Will threw Mike’s arm over his shoulder and the drunken boy leaned against him. Will walked him down the hallway, realizing just how much Mike trusted him. He didn’t want to lose this. No matter how much that meant burying everything he felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Reference to my other fic: Should I Stay or Should I Go?


	16. The Arrangement

Mike felt the sun shine through the blinds. He squinted and covered his face with his arm. He could feel the headache coming on. 

Shit. How much had he drank last night? He blinked. Wait. Where was he? He lifted his head and saw the familiar layout. He was at Will’s. And he remembered. 

He had biked over to the party at Tamryn’s. He hadn’t been invited, but he brought over one of his mom’s bottles of wine and got himself in. 

What had been his plan? Honestly. There was no plan. He just wanted to get drunk without burdening his friends. He didn’t think about how the fuck he was supposed to get home. Mike felt his stomach drop. How had Will found him? What happened? 

He remembered being in the back of Will’s car and how upset Will had been. He could recall thanking Will for something. He closed his eyes, attempting to stave off the thumping migraine in his skull and focus on the events the night before. The memory of the arrangement returned and Mike massaged his forehead. He deserved every bit of this hangover, he thought, for what he’d put Will up to.

A few moments later, Will stirred in his bed. He peaked over the side. “Morning, Mike.”

“Morning.” Mike replied. He couldn’t look Will in the face. He felt so ashamed. But he could see Will look concerned at his avoidance and so Mike clarified, “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Which part? About the lying or the blatant disregard for your own well-being?”

“Mostly the first and for asking you to pick me up.”

“You didn’t make me pick you up. You weren’t the one who called me.”

“I wasn’t?”

“No. Angela did.”

“Oh, fuck.” He turned his face into the pillow and groaned. It wasn’t bad enough that Will had to pick him up in the middle of the night. He had also made him talk to his ex. He muffled into his pillow, “I’m the biggest asshole.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. My dad still holds the title for that one. You are just a drunk asshole.”

Mike turned to face Will. “That whole arrangement- what I asked you to do. Just forget it.”

Will raised his eyebrows, “You have another plan? Are you going to stop drinking?”

“Yeah. That was it. I’m done.” He hadn’t been able to look Will in the eyes and say it. 

Will threw his pillow at Mike. “That’s what makes you an asshole! You’re fucking lying again!”

“I’m not-”

“Just stop, Mike. Please just tell me the truth.”

Mike looked at his friend’s face. He had hurt him. He had hurt all his friends by doing this, but Will most especially. “I don’t want to stop. I mean, I don’t want this to be forever, just for now… it’s nice. To get lost in something for a few hours. But I won’t go anyplace far. Or, maybe I’ll just drink at the house.”

Mike could see the concern, the sadness, and the resignation on Will’s face. This was killing him. Will said softly, “There was a reason I offered to drive you. I want to make sure you’re safe. Drinking alone at home, isn’t safe. I’ll go with you to these things and get you home.”

“But you shouldn’t have to chauffeur me around. That’s not fair to you!”

“I don’t give a shit. I’d rather be inconvenienced if it means you’re safe.”

Mike couldn’t look at him. He didn’t deserve Will. He was too good. “I’m sorry.”

Will shrugged, “For what it’s worth, you aren’t a terrible drunk. I’ve seen people be absolute pieces of shit. If you were, I think I’d tag in other people. You were actually… You smiled more than I’d seen you in a while. I’m not saying that I approve, but it’s not completely infuriating.”

“Except when I’m puking my guts up.”

“Well, yeah.”

They smiled at each other. And for a moment it was quiet. 

Will asked, “So… do you want me to talk to the guys about this?”

Mike looked like a deer in headlights. He recovered and lied, “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

Will side-eyed him. Mike couldn’t lie to him anymore. He saw through it all. 

Mike tried to justify his answer, “I can’t expect you to keep this from them. It’s bad enough I’m asking you to drive me to these places!”

“If you don’t want me to tell them, I won’t.”

“But you should.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Mike felt completely selfish but he didn’t want anybody else to know. They already knew that he drank. But if they knew he had roped Will into driving him… a wave of shame washed over him. They would offer to take turns. But he didn’t want Lucas or Dustin taking care of him. He wanted Will. Will was patient with him. He didn’t feel like a complete burden. If he felt like crying, he could. With Will, he felt like he could completely open, without feeling judged. Will just accepted all parts of Mike and the relief that came with that was immense. 

Mike mumbled, “If you could just hold off for a bit. I mean… if this is all too much, talk to someone please. Don’t keep something that’s bothering you in. Just…” Mike sighed. He was being too much and he knew it.

“If I need to talk to someone… I’ll talk to June. He’s removed enough.”

Mike glanced over at Will to read his expression. When Mike first learned that Will still talked to his ex, he had been worried. It wasn’t frequent. But it was enough that Mike could see he still needed June on some level. Mike hated that he couldn’t help him more. That he could be completely open with Will but that Will had to hold back for some reason. 

Will continued, looking at Mike uncertainly, “As long as that’s okay.”

Mike looked at Will firmly, “Of course it is. I told you not to keep it in.”

Will shrugged, “I know.”

Mike ventured a question, “Do you think you’ll get back together with him… once you’re out there?”

Will sighed, “I don’t even know if I’ll get into CalArts. It’s such a long shot.”

Mike fought the headache and sat up. “If you don’t get into CalArts, I will personally fly to California to flip them off. Your work is incredible!”

Will tried to hide a smile. 

Mike restated, “That aside though, WHEN you get into CalArts, do you think you’ll get back with June?”

Will closed his eyes, in frustration. It was a question he asked himself a lot. “I have no idea. Sometimes I think, ‘God, yes! I miss him.’ But other times, I wonder how I would ever trust him, again. I don’t know if I would ever feel ‘enough’ with him. I wasn’t enough to make him stay. I try and play it out in my mind but all I see is me getting jealous and insecure. I would doubt him every time he talked to another guy. And what kind of life is that?”

Mike posed, “But you do still talk to him about pretty big stuff. You trust him enough with that.”

“Yeah, I trust him with that. But he’s also a thousand miles away. It’s like calling a hotline. You get someone who cares and will listen but isn’t going to call your parents and relay anything.”

Mike looked at Will, “Have you called a hotline before?”

Will’s eyes went wide at what he had just divulged. He said, sternly, “We aren’t talking about that now.”

Mike felt hurt. In a lot of ways, Will was like a quarry. It was impossible to tell the depths of him and he hated that despite how much he felt like he knew Will, there was always more underneath.

Mike apologized, “Sorry.”

“It’s not- I just don’t want to talk about it. I want today to be a good day and bringing that all up would just ruin it for me.”

Mike nodded, “I get it. But you know you can, right?”

Will gave a gentle and sincere look, “I know I can, Mike.”

“I’ve been leaning on you a lot lately, but you’re still allowed to lean back.”

Will nodded. 

Mike tried not to let the concern show. He felt so selfish and helpless. He was asking so much of him, but Will refused to rely on him for anything. He wished so much that whatever wall Will held up would come down some day, but he wouldn’t press it. With Will, he had to just be patient and hope.


	17. The Story

Will turned the combination to his locker absentmindedly. The events of the weekend had been weighing on his mind all week.

The remainder of Saturday had been spent continuing their Nostalgic Movie weekend. They binge-watched all of the animated Tolkien movies. When Mike had felt well enough, the pair attempted to restore Castle Byers, but months of neglect had left a firm stench of mildew and the smell had started to bother Mike’s already fragile stomach. So they had settled for world building over Mac N’ Cheese. They sat around the kitchen table inventing a world that had only active volcanoes and sea on the surface. What would the creatures that live there look like? What were the scientific laws that guided this place? As always, Will ended up drawing more than speaking. And Mike was happy to quietly prompt him with ideas and watch him draw. 

Will had loved the quietness of the day. So much so that the full weight of their arrangement hadn’t really been felt until on Sunday, when he had to lie to his friends at the arcade. It wasn’t really a big lie. He said that Mike and him had hung out, but he had to keep the sleepover a secret. And he knew it was only the beginning. As the weekend approached, the knot in his stomach only tightened. 

Will grabbed his backpack, threw the books in for the remainder of his classes, and slung it over his shoulder. Just as he shut the locker door he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Hi, Will!” Mike called.

“Mike? What are you doing here? Your class is on the other side of the building.”

“Mr. Jacobs doesn’t mind. I think I’m the only one who doesn’t have senioritis in his class.” He laughed and started walking with Will. “I really wish you were in his class.”

“I hate that they scheduled AV Class as the same time as AP Art.”

“Yeah. But at least you’re still in the club!”

Will nodded, “So, what’s up? I know you’re not just skipping so you can walk me to class.”

“I’m not skipping. And yeah, um, I wanted to talk to you about this weekend.”

Will felt his stomach drop. He’d been waiting for this. He was surprised it had taken ‘til Thursday for Mike to bring it up. “What about it?”

“Well, um… Dan Catucci is having a party at his place on Saturday.”

“Who’s Dan Catucci?”

“He’s a sophomore in my Creative Writing class.”

“How are people just okay with you going over to their parties and drinking their booze?”

“Well, bringing something is usually a good way to get in.” Mike looked away guiltily.

“Oh? And what have you been bringing?”

Mike mumbled and looked away, “My mom’s wine…”

“Are you kidding me, Mike? You think she won’t notice that?!”

Mike put his hands up. “I know! I know! I’m not doing that this time.”

Will stopped walking and looked at Mike, “Where will you get the alcohol from, then?”

“I’m gonna buy some off of Stephanie Hollenbeck.”

Will’s eyes got wide and he hissed, “The fucking drug dealer?!”

“Jesus, Will!” 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

“She’s not that bad! We’ve known her for most of our lives. Her boyfriend’s dad owns the liquor store. That’s all. I’m gonna meet her tomorrow to pick up a handle.”

Will adjusted his backpack. The whole situation was uncomfortable and he wanted the conversation over sooner rather than later. 

“Ok. Fine. I’ll pick you up on Saturday at 8.”

“Um… there’s another thing… about the guys...”

Will sighed, “You know they’re gonna get suspicious or concerned if you keep dodging Movie Night.”

“Yeah, I know. I wanted to run the story by you.”

Will squirmed. He hated being a part of all the lies.

Mike began, “I was thinking that we could say… that we were going to a youth group in the city.”

Will raised his eyebrows, “Like a church group?”

“What? No. No, a youth group for… gay and lesbian people.” He whispered the last part, although the hallway was mostly empty, the party avoided saying these words at school whenever possible, lest they summon unwanted listeners, or worse, Troy. 

Mike continued, “When you told me about calling a hotline… I called one and talked to them, asked what I could do… The woman I was talking to said that there was a youth support group in the city for teens who have been through the same stuff you have… well… as far as that stuff goes...” 

Will was stunned. This had been his first time ever hearing about such a group and he couldn’t quite process it. 

Mike continued, “They don’t meet every weekend but the guys don’t have to know that. I figured, on weekends when there are meetings, we’ll go. And on others, it will be our cover.”

Will couldn’t find his voice. He felt overwhelmed by what Mike had just said. There were other kids his age that were gay. It wasn’t just adults, they were his age. And if it was for “teens”, that probably meant for kids younger than him too. 

Mike seemed uncertain, “Is that okay?”

Will heard the bell ring and saw the hallway clear of what few students remained, but he couldn’t get his feet to move. “It’s just… I didn’t know there was such a thing. I had no idea. And the thought of being around other people like me…” Will could hear his voice crack, “I thought I’d have to wait ‘til college.” Tears we’re starting to pool and Will quickly wiped his eyes.

Mike smiled, sympathetically, and wrapped Will up in a hug. “We’ll go to the next meeting. It’s on the 25th.”

Will wanted to relax and give into the embrace, but he knew, if he did, he would just end up crying and he couldn’t risk that. Not at school. He steadied himself, pulling away from the hug. He did his best to tuck everything back in. He squeezed Mike’s arm. “Thanks, Mike.”

Mike kept a hand on his shoulder, “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. You should go, though. You’re late enough already.” 

Will started to walk but Mike continued to follow him. “Your class is right down there, it won’t make me any later.” 

There were times when Will couldn’t believe that he had a friend like Mike. He had called a crisis hotline because he found out Will did. He reached out to find him help, even though he was the one who needed it more. Mike was still too concerned about others. Even with something so simple as walking him to class. Will was overwhelmed with gratitude. A few moments ago he had been so infuriated with Mike, with the lies, and the drinking. But then the Mike he knew managed to shine through it all. Will promised himself that he’d find a way to help him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: well.... this is my second attempt at an author's note here. The first one turned into... a bonus chapter. Whoops. Why can't I just explain things without them becoming another story? Anyway, youth group referred to here is called the Indiana Youth Group. It is an LGBTQ youth support center in Indianapolis. It was founded in 1987 by Chris Gonzalez and Jeff Werner. When I write about it in future chapters, I may pull out my artistic license to fill in gaps or holes in my research. But the history of it is too interesting not to keep as true to it as I can. Go read about this lovely organization and what they do for LGBTQ+ kids and teens: http://www.indianayouthgroup.org/ Also, I would highly recommend looking into local LGBT centers near you to see what you can do to support them!


	18. The Rum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG!! @_@ I have written and rewritten it so many times. Normally this would have been multiple chapters but I couldn't break it up. So, thank you SO much for your patience! I hope you enjoy!

Will had been dreading Saturday. The excitement from discovering the youth group had faded and Will was reminded of how he would have to awkwardly wait around at a party surrounded by people he didn’t know. 

He pulled up to Mike’s house and saw him sitting on the steps. Mike immediately stood up, and delicately slung his backpack over one shoulder. That must be where the liquor was. Will sighed. None of this sat right with him. 

Mike walked around and opened the door. “Thanks for picking me up, Will.”

“No problem,” he said. But it definitely was and Mike could tell. 

Mike glanced at the fuel gauge and saw he was on a quarter tank. “I’m paying for gas, okay?”

Will was already tense and this suggestion did not help. “I can pay for my own gas.” He hadn’t meant to be so curt but money was always a sore subject and Mike knew that. 

Mike was quiet for a moment. “Dan is dog-sitting for his dad. He lives in the next town over, in Jameson. Please, let me pay.”

Will did the math in his head. He definitely didn’t have enough to pay for this trip and gas for the week. He’d have to accept. He knew it was perfectly fair to take Mike up on his offer but that didn’t stop him from feeling shitty about it. He begrudgingly agreed, “Fine.”

As they drove, the car was filled with a tense silence. The mood was starting to affect Mike, too. He didn’t want it to be like this. He had been excited to go to Dan’s party. He had been excited to have Will there. This night was going to be different. Dan was, in a lot of ways, like their group. He was nerdy in his own bookish way. He could talk about The Twilight Zone and H.P. Lovecraft ‘til he was blue in the face. 

But Will was being miserable and although Mike had an idea of why, he just wanted to make things better so that they could maybe enjoy the night. 

They pulled up to the gas station, Mike got out and Will popped the tank. Mike went inside and paid for the gas, Will had already put the nozzle in. He clicked it until it read $5.00 and stopped. 

He was about to take the nozzle out when Mike said, “I paid for $15. That should get you to full, right?” 

“MIKE! That’s too much!” 

Mike was surprised at Will’s reaction. “Well, when it’s filled up, I’ll just get the change.”

“NO, I mean I didn’t want you paying that much! I don’t need you to pay that much! I can afford my own gas!” 

“I’m not saying that you can’t!”

“Yes, you are!! That’s exactly what you’re saying!”

“How much gas have I cost you running you back and forth to my house and to one party or the next? Let me pay you back!”

“I don’t want your fucking guilt money!” Will was red in the face, embarrassed that he was yelling at a gas station. Embarrassed that he couldn’t afford enough to fill his own tank. And embarrassed that he had just cursed at Mike. He couldn’t look at his friend’s face, that was contorted in confusion and poorly concealed hurt. Will got back in the car, shut the door, and leaned his head on the steering wheel. 

He heard the numbers still clicking on the pump and the gas filling. Will could feel the stress and tears building up behind his eyes. He hated that he couldn’t get mad without crying. There was a threshold of anger that once he went past just dissolved into tears. He hated it. It was among the many things that brought out the word “fag” from his father’s lips. But Will had to shove that thought away or he would definitely start crying. 

He heard Mike click the nozzle back in and glanced up at the numbers. The numbers read $10.00. Mike went back inside the gas station for the change and came back out with a pack of Hostess Cupcakes in his hand. When he got in the car, he quietly handed one to Will. 

A peace offering that harkened back to lunches in the cafeteria. Will would have a paper bag that his mom filled with whatever had been on sale at Melvald’s that week. While Mike would have a shiny lunchbox filled with more than he could, or wanted to, eat. But most notably, those fucking Hostess Cupcakes, that he would always selflessly share with Will. No matter how much anyone else wanted to trade with Mike, that other cake was always reserved for him. 

Damnnit.

Will accepted the cake and took a bite. 

“I’m sorry, Will.”

Will swallowed, “I know. I am, too.” 

“You have every right to be mad. I know I’m being selfish.”

Will looked over at Mike, who was staring at the dashboard. His cheeks were red. 

Mike continued, “Everything I’m asking of you. I just wanted to make up for it.”

“Stop trying. It is what it is. I told you I’d be here for you for this. I offered.”

“But you’re super pissed about it.”

“What I’m pissed off at is that you illegally bought alcohol. It’s one thing to drink it, but purchasing it is a whole other level.”

“I know...”

“Offer to buy the food or something at these parties. Or just give them the money. Don’t get yourself involved in something that can screw up your life. If you get busted for this, you could lose any scholarships or it could prevent you from getting into the colleges you want.”

Mike bit his lip. Will was sounding like a PSA and he wanted to say something snarky about it, but he knew better. He also knew that now was not a good time to mention how he hadn’t applied to any colleges yet. 

Will continued, “I’m sorry I yelled at you like that.”

Mike replied, “You’re allowed to be frustrated, Will. I just… I know I’ve been dragging you to a lot of these things. And I was just excited because I think you might actually like these people. They’re cool, like how our friends are. But if we get there and you still hate it and want to leave, we’ll go.”

Will’s shoulders sagged. He knew he wouldn’t take Mike up on that offer. 

“You said Dan’s in your creative writing class, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you gotten to read anything by him?”

Mike smirked. “Yeah. He’s got a heavy Twilight Zone vibe in his stories.”

“Does he play D&D?”

“No, but I plan on easing him into it,” Mike said. 

“You keep talking like that and people are gonna start thinking Dungeons and Dragons IS actually a cult.”

Mike snorted. 

Will smiled and started up the car. Will’s frustration had cooled. He’d do his best to find the good in tonight. Mike was making friends outside of their circle. It was healthy. He didn’t know where Mike was going to go after high school, but he knew everyone was going to different colleges. Lucas and Max were looking to get into Northwestern in Chicago. Lucas was going for chemical engineering and Max wanted to be an editor. Dustin was going to California to major in programming. And Will’s dream was to get into the California Arts Institute. If he wanted to get into animation or movie production of sorts, it was the BEST place to go. But he was also applying to most every art college on the West Coast he could. 

Mike had once poured over pamphlets with El, but those days were over, along with any discussion of college. He didn’t talk about it anymore. Will wondered if Mike’s plan was to find El and go into hiding with her. It hurt to think about that, about how much he was willing to give up for her. 

Will couldn’t sit in the silence anymore. He pressed in the tape his brother had sent. It was some Canadian punk band that had toured in New York. Will could really get lost in the raw emotion and belt the words out at the top of his lungs. He didn’t with Mike there, but he couldn’t help doing some air drums during certain parts. He caught Mike smiling at him and tapping along.  
_____________________________________

They pulled up to Dan’s house, surprised at just how small it was. As they drove down the street, the houses were clustered together with only enough space between them to access the backyard. They opened chain link fence gate and knocked on the door. 

They immediately heard barking and a voice that Will figured must be Dan’s.

“Piper! Get down girl! Go to bed! Get down! Sit! Come on, girl! Ugh! Forget it!”

The door opened and they saw Dan was holding onto the collar of a very excited German Shepherd. 

Dan said, “Don’t worry. She’s really friendly. She just likes to meet new people, by jumping on them. If she does, just shove her off.”

Mike was visibly hesitant but Will could barely contain himself. He hadn't had a pet since Chester and none of his friends had dogs. He put his hand in front and she sniffed and then licked it. She was still a puppy! Probably about a year old. 

He said to Dan, “You can let her go.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Will proceeded to do this sort of dance, everytime she tried to jump on him, he’d turn his back. This confounded her. She eventually stopped jumping. Will told her to sit and then gave her pets, which quickly turned into belly rubs. Which meant that he was on the floor with her, rubbing her fluffy belly, and in absolute heaven.

Mike commented, “Well, Dan, I just came by to drop off Will for a playdate with your dog. I’ll see you Monday.”

Dan laughed, it was deep and contagious. He was heavy set, tall, and tan. He had a flock of seagulls haircut and the shadow of a beard along his jaw. 

Will chuckled, “Seriously, Dan, can I keep her?”

He laughed, “No, my dad would kill me! But you’re really good at that. The whole training thing you just did.”

Will shrugged, “It’s just a trick I watched my mom do.”

“Well, you’re good.”

“Thanks.”

Dan turned to Mike. “Thank you for making it out here. I know it’s a bit of a drive.”

Mike replied, “It’s no problem.” 

Dan gestured towards the kitchen. “Let me introduce you to everybody. And also, if you want to take off your shoes, I’d put them in the closet, or Piper will get them.” The guys took their shoes off and followed Dan through the hallway. The kitchen flowed into the living room where a group of four other people were gathered. 

There was a boy sitting on a recliner holding a bottle in the air while a girl was trying to get it out of his hands and another girl was sitting on the floor laughing.

“Give it!” said the girl.

“No! You’re a monster and you are flagged!” The boy shouted back.

Dan put his hands up. “What happened in the two seconds I was gone??”

“This nutjob just drank a shot of Everclear!” the boy yelled overtop of the girl’s incessant attempts at grabbing the bottle. “Take it!”

Dan took the bottle and despite the girl’s feeble attempts at jumping, she couldn’t get more than shoulder height of him. So she gave up and sat back down. 

Mike asked, “What’s that?”

Dan replied, “My asshole father’s idea of a funny joke. It’s Everclear. He said we could help ourselves. Smell it.” He brought the bottle under Mike’s nose. The cap was still on but he could smell it. 

Mike immediately covered his nose, “UGH! God! What the hell?! Isn’t that used in first aid??”

Will leaned in out of curiosity and cringed. It smelled like pure rubbing alcohol and burned his eyes. 

Dan shook his head. “It’s only barely palatable if it’s mixed with something, like orange soda.”

Al retorted, “No, it RUINS orange soda.”

Dan shrugged, “My dad’s got beer but we’re not really supposed to touch it.” He put the bottle of Everclear on top of the fridge. 

Mike pulled out a bottle of rum from his bag. “Then, it’s good I brought this?”

Dan threw his hands in the air. “YOU”RE A LIFESAVER! Holy shit, man!”

Will’s stomach tightened. 

Dan held up the rum. “Guys! We can actually drink this!”

The people in the living room threw their hands up.

Dan added, “Except you, Liz! You’re still on water and detoxing for the next hour.”

“Boo! Party pooper!”

“Hey. I didn’t drink the kerosene, you did.”

Dan turned to the boys, “Mike, Will. This is Liz,” he gestured to the drunk girl, “Melissa,” the girl on the floor waved, “and Al,” the exhausted boy on the couch gave a half hearted wave. “Guys, this is Mike and Will. Mike is a senior in my creative writing class and Will’s his friend from AV Club.”

Al perked up, “Wait. You’re not Will Byers, are you?”

Will inwardly recoiled. Here it comes. Zombie boy. He braced himself, “Yeah...”

“You drew that creepy alien hanging up in the library, didn’t you?”

Will was surprised. “Yeah. That’s mine.”

“Duuude. The most unsettling piece of artwork I have ever seen. Like, just horrific.”

“Umm… thanks. That’s what I was going for.” The knot in his stomach loosened.

Melissa shook her head, “It’s got a deeply fucked up looking face.”

Will shrugged, “Sorry?”

Melissa corrected him, “No. It’s a compliment.”

Dan explained, “These two are creeps about horror and gore.”

Al seemed offended, “We prefer the term cinephiles.”

Liz was quiet this whole time, swaying and coyly smiling at Mike. He caught her glance for a moment, blushed when he saw the intentness of the stare, and diverted his attention back to Will. Will seemed to be genuinely surprised about, and enjoying, the attention. 

Will asked, “What kind of movies do you watch?”

Melissa sat up. “Well, there’s of course your standard American horror movies, but honestly, the Giallo genre is much more interesting, albeit it is not to the taste of most.”

Dan rolled his eyes. 

Al explained, “Giallo is an Italian sub-genre of horror. It’s pretty gory. My uncle lives in Italy and he records a lot of them and brings them over when he visits. Or just sends them.”

Melissa bragged, “I’m much better at Italian now.”

Al stood up, “I actually brought some with me.”

Dan and Liz both chimed in. “No.”

Liz added, “I’ll puke.”

Dan added, “She’ll puke.”

Liz raised her hand, “Let’s play Spin the Bottle!”

Will’s eyes got big, at the sheer horror of the suggestion. 

Melissa groaned, “Ugh! What are we 13? No.”

Liz retorted, smiling, “Then, Truth or Dare!”

Melissa covered her eyes, “OH MY GOD! STOP!”

Dan quickly suggested, “Five Fingers!” 

Everyone raised their hands, “Yes!”

Will said, “Oh! We played that on the Art trip last year.” He and Mike sat down on the couch and Piper promptly hopped up beside Will. Her tail thumping and eyes expectantly waiting for more pets. Will obliged her.

Dan got out the plastic cups from the cabinet. “Yep! Same rules but, for every finger down, you take a drink.”

Will mumbled, “Ummm. I’m not drinking.” He rubbed Piper’s ears, her presence really helped.

Dan asked, “What?”

Mike noticed Will’s discomfort and clarified, “He’s my Designated Driver tonight.”

“Oh!! HERO!” Dan shouted, “Heroes get Cherry Coke!”

Al said, incensed, “You’ve been holding out! You have Cherry Coke??!”

Dan replied, “Cherry Coke is NOT to be used as a mixer. It is for heroes only and for people who actually bring something to contribute.”

Dan handed a cup to Will and another to Mike, then proceeded to pour rum into the other cups of some form of discount brand soda. Except for a single cup of water, which was given to Liz. Everyone grabbed a cup and held up their hands. At first the “never-have-I-ever”s were somewhat tame: Never been to a sleepaway camp, never played an instrument, never broken a bone, but as the fingers went down the game started intensifying. Will and the girls were in the lead and Dan was desperately trying to get the girls out. 

Dan said, “Never have I ever kissed a guy.”

Will tried to breathe. No. He thought. The night had been going so well. Despite the fact that he was surrounded by people drinking, he liked them. He didn’t want to bring up his sexuality. He didn’t want to be marked as weird. But then, he saw Mike put down a finger and his stomach dropped. 

HE WOULDN’T!! His mind screamed.

Everyone stared at Mike. Melissa shook her hands hands excitedly. “OH MY GOD! SPILL, MIKE!!” 

Liz seemed stunned, “WAIT! I thought Will was the gay one!”

Will’s hands were balled up in fists at his side, his fingers digging into his palms. This was a nightmare. 

Dan seemed surprised and a little crestfallen, but he came to Mike’s defense, “Hey, nobody needs to explain anything. You don’t have to explain anything, Mike.” 

Mike looked at Will for a moment. Will bit his lip and closed his eyes. That time was too personal. The moment when he had realized everything, his feelings, his sexuality, it all came crashing onto his best friend’s lips. It was embarrassing and emotional and too private. He prayed Mike wouldn’t say it. Not to this group of strangers. Please. 

Mike shrugged, “Nothing to tell really. Thirteen year olds play spin the bottle. Mine landed on Will.”

Will felt relief wash over him but not for long. 

Al looked over at Will. “Wait! Are the rumors true, though? Are you gay?”

Dan groaned, “ALBERTO GIUSEPPE! You cannot just ask someone that!”

Al shrugged, “Why not?”

Dan put his head in his hands. 

Will was sick of denying it. But he hated the rollercoaster of emotions that followed coming out to people. How things shifted in people’s heads. How guys suddenly made sure not to sit super close or avoided his gaze. Or how girls would suddenly try to equate him to a woman or ask insanely personal questions about his life. Everything had been going so well. 

Suddenly, he felt Mike’s foot on his. He looked at Mike. There was something in his face. Will couldn’t put a word to it, but he knew it’s meaning. He had his back. Mike hadn’t wanted to make things worse by holding his hand, Will hated PDA and in this situation, it would just be on display and misread. But it was Mike’s way of saying that he was there. Whether Will wanted to leave or stay, whether he wanted to deny it or say it. Mike was there. Cause he always had been and, Will hoped, he always would be.

Will took a deep breath, “I am.” He could hear his voice shake and it sucked. 

Liz put her hands on her face, “Aww! That’s so cute!”

“What?” Will asked, surprised.

She looked completely smitten, “Mike’s spin-the-bottle kiss turned you gay.”

Melissa collapsed on the floor in giggles. Dan smacked his face, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

Mike snorted. “You know what. That’s exactly what happened. What can I say? I’m that good a kisser. It’s a curse.”

Al snickered and Will laughed nervously. 

Liz raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’ll have to show me sometime.”

Mike immediately tensed. 

Dan put his hands in the air. “I’M DONE! I’m getting a drink! I can’t handle any of you right now!”

Liz stood up, “And my hour is done so back to DRINKS!” 

Melissa followed her, “Okay, but I’m pouring it. You make that shit too strong.” 

Al sat in the chair, looking at Mike and Will. He seemed awkward, “I shouldn’t have asked you about it like that. Sorry.”

Will felt exhausted by everything that had just happened, “It’s okay.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Will saw Mike give Al a look, after which, Al quickly added, “If it’s too personal you don’t have to answer though!”

Will looked uncertain, “Go ahead.”

“Did you always know?”

It was personal but Will was taken aback by the sincerity. “Not really. Sometimes it felt like I was missing something, like when everyone else gets something in math that just doesn’t click with you. But other than that… it took dating a girl to realize it.”

Al nodded, seeming lost in thought.

Liz and Melissa sat down, with their fully refilled cups. Liz held up her cup, “Now back to the game!”

Al shook his head, “I forgot my count.”

Mike put his hands up, “I think I’ve divulged enough of my past for one night.”

Melissa suggested, “We could watch Evil Dead II!”

Dan added, “And drink at every bad special effect.”

Melissa retorted, “And get liver poisoning?! No.” Melissa laid out the rules for the Evil Dead drinking game and they started to watch Evil Dead II. 

About 15 minutes into the movie, Liz complained under her breath about the floor being uncomfortable and she stood up, making her way to the couch. She asked Mike, “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Mike shrugged, uncomfortably, and scooted closer to Will. Will made more room and Piper adjusted as well. They continued to watch the movie. As the body of the dead girlfriend came back to life, Liz turned her head into Mike’s shoulder. 

Liz refused to look and whispered, “I hate this movie.”

Melissa, oblivious, shouted, “Body coming out of the ground! Drink!”

Mike wanted to feel bad for her. Liz was clearly outnumbered, and it wasn’t like there was a solution that didn’t involve being antisocial. But this contact, it felt like she was expecting something from him. Mike whispered back, “Just don’t look during the parts you don’t like.”

“You mean the whole thing?” She nuzzled her face into his arm. His heart was racing. It had felt like so long since someone had leaned on him like this, since he had been needed like this. His mind flashed to times when El leaned on him, when movie nights had lasted too long and she would just burrow in his arms. How she would show up to his house and knock on the window when the nightmares were particularly bad. They would just lay together, her head tucked into his neck and his arm under her and around her.

It just made him miss El more. He grabbed his cup and drained it, willing the memories away. He stood up and went to the kitchen for a refill. 

The action was not lost on Will who also drained his cup of Cherry Coke and followed. He could feel Liz’s eyes on him. 

Will brought himself next to Mike. “You okay?” He whispered. 

Mike looked stressed and upset but he couldn’t seem to put it into words. So, Will offered, “Do you want to switch spots?”

Mike looked at Will completely relieved and nodded. When they went back out, Will took Mike’s spot and Mike sat next to Piper, who seemed undisturbed by the new companion. Liz noticed the new positioning and slunk back. After a few moments, Liz stood up and left the room, presumably for the bathroom. 

A few moments later, Dan looked back at the couch. “Where’s Liz?”

Will answered, “I think she went to the bathroom?”

Dan closed his eyes and sighed, “Shit. I’ll be right back.” Dan got up and walked down the hallway.

They continued to watch the movie until, through the thin walls, they could hear a muffled sobbing, “I’m so stupid!”

Al said, “Welp. Liz has reached her limit.”

Melissa’s shoulders sagged. “Aw, fuck. Poor thing.”

The conversation continued on the other side of the wall. “You’re not stupid.”

“Yes, I am! I say stupid things and I don’t get Evil Dead and everyone hates every stupid suggestion I say.”

“Come here, you know that’s not true. You’re amazing and we love being with you. You’re just tired.”

“STOP PATRONIZING ME LIKE IM A FUCKING CHILD!” There was a loud wail that followed this. 

Melissa sat up, “Oh, sweetie!” She got up and bolted to the bathroom.

Al paused the movie and looked over at Mike and Will. Mike looked extremely guilty. “This is my fault.”

Al shook his head, “Naw, man. It isn’t you. She just gets like this.”

“No,” Mike explained, “She was leaning on me and I had Will switch places with me. It was shitty.”

“Listen, Mike. You don’t have to apologize for that. What were you supposed to do? Sit there awkwardly and let her hang all over you? No.”

They could hear Melissa’s voice speaking soothingly on the other side. “You are the sweetest person I know. I don’t care if you hate Evil Dead. You are my soul sister forever.”

Al rested his head into the chair. He mumbled, “It’s a shame you didn’t get to meet her sober. She’s really cool.”

Will asked, “Does this happen a lot?”

Al shrugged. “She doesn’t know her limit. And this is her drunken rollercoaster. She gets loud, boisterous, clingy, then sad.”

They heard through the wall, “Come on up to bed, hon.”

“Come on, Lizzy. We’ll carry you up.”

And they heard her sobbing, “I love you so much. Both of you, I love you.” 

At that Al stood up. “I’m gonna see if they need any help. Do you guys mind chilling here for a second?”

Mike and Will spoke at the same time. “Sure.” “No problem.”

Mike looked down at his cup. A part of him itched to take another swig, but he could feel Will’s eyes and set the cup on the table. He looked over to where the guys were carrying Liz up the stairs. Melissa trailing behind with a glass of water. 

Mike asked, quietly, “That what you guys have to do with me? Is that what you have to put up with?”

Will sighed, “All things considered, you are a pretty low maintenance drunk. But yeah, kind of.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mike. And you were actually pretty good about pacing yourself tonight.” Despite the drinking games, Mike wasn’t terribly drunk. A water cup had accompanied his liquored one for most of the night. 

Mike stood up and started collecting the empty cups. Will helped clean up the cheese puffs and other snacks spread out on the coffee table. 

Piper hopped down and followed him, likely hoping for a snack herself. Will obliged after telling her to sit and showing her how to give him a paw. Then he gave her a hard pretzel. She took her spoils into the other room and chewed on it. 

Mike leaned on the counter, watching. Will turned back and saw Mike smiling. For some reason, Will felt a blush creep to his face. 

“I’ve really missed having a dog.”

“I can tell. You’re good with her.”

Will glowed. “Thanks.”

Dan came back downstairs. He apologized, “Sorry about that. Melissa’s gonna stay with Liz but she wanted me to tell you she said, and I quote, ‘Goodnight and that you guys are awesome.’ Al and I are still down to hang out though. He’s getting a cot set up for Melissa right now. But he’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Mike glanced at Will, who was beginning to look tired. “Thanks, but we should get home before my DD crashes.”

Dan offered, “You guys are welcome to take a couch, if you’re tired. You okay to drive, Will?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Dan turned around, remembering, “Oh! And, Mike, take the leftover-”. He went to get the rum but there was barely enough for a cup left. Dan looked horrified, like the night wasn’t going at all the way he hoped. “Oh my God. We destroyed it. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. That’s why I brought it.”

“Yeah but- at least take a shot. One for the road! I feel so fucking bad.”

Mike replied, “As long as you take one with me.” Will pursed his lips. 

Dan smiled and poured the remainder into two cups. He held up his cup, “To the heroes, who saved us from Everclear and put up with our drunk asses.”

Mike suggested, “How about to friends, instead?”

Dan grinned, beaming at that, “To friends.” He repeated. Then, they drank, and winced. “Ugh! Definitely better with soda.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, coughing. “I’ll see you on Monday, Dan.”

“Yeah! Goodnight, guys! Drive safe!”

They walked out and back to the car. Mike immediately felt the flush rush to his face from the shot. They got in the car and Will started the car.

Mike said, as he buckled in, “It’s so ridiculous. I feel like a kid. Like ‘I just made a new friend.’ Is that weird?”

Will grinned. “No, it’s not weird. I get it. And Dan was cool. They all were.” Will shifted the car in gear and started to drive.

“Were you okay? I know the Five Fingers game got a little intense.”

“Yeah… it was fine though. They just sort of rolled with it, you know? There wasn’t 20 questions about my sex life after, so it was fine.” 

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Eh. Kind of. Mentioning it just immediately changes everything. People, for the most part, either treat me like a disease, get super awkward, or suddenly think it’s okay to ask super personal questions.”

Mike immediately slapped his forehead.

“What??”

“I just thought of some of the stupid questions Dustin asked you when you came out.”

“OH, God!” Will laughed. “He was ridiculous. It was like a solid month of just ludicrous questions at the weirdest times. But he’s Dustin, so it’s okay.”

________________________________

The whole process of coming out had been terrifying. Mike, Jonathan, and El had been with him every step of the way. But each time he told someone else important to him it was this horrible roller-coaster. For the entire period leading up to it, he would contemplate back and forth on whether he should, then why he shouldn’t. And it never seemed like a good time. There would be days when the words would be rehearsed and ready and he would wait for the right moment and it would feel so close. But then he would back out. It took him almost a month to tell his mom and twice that for Dustin, Lucas, and Max. 

He had known his mom would understand. It wasn’t about that. It was about making her worry more. He had been scared that she would look at him different, or, worse, that she would think, “Lonnie was right.” 

Each time, once the words were finally said, there was a terrifying moment of anticipation and a realization that they could never be taken back. When he’d said them to his mom, there was a look of sympathy and she immediately wrapped him up in a hug. 

“I love you, sweetie. And nothing will change that.” She just rocked him and repeated the words. “Nothing could EVER change that.”

Suddenly, the knot he had been holding for weeks would unwind and he felt like he could breathe again. 

The roller-coaster didn’t always end like that though. Many times he wished he’d never come out at all. For months after he came out to Mike, his friend seemed to do mental double-takes, like every interaction had to be analyzed, lest he send the wrong signal. When he’d told Lucas, he had been weird for a week after, as though Will had AIDS just by being gay. Max, on the other hand, spent the months that followed handing Will every scrap of paper, book recommendation, and news article that had anything to do with homosexuality, filtering out the negative ones, of course. And she seemed to think he would suddenly be interested in Liberace. He wasn’t. 

El had been his saving grace at the time. She didn’t seem to care at all. She asked more questions about why it mattered so much to other people. She just accepted him regardless and he had loved her for it.

It took a bit of adjusting but eventually, everyone realized he was still Will. And the only time it was occasionally brought up was in the passing joke, pointing at good-looking male actors in the movies and gesturing with raised eyebrows. “How about him?”  
_____________________________________

As they drove back into Hawkins, Mike rolled the window down and rested his head on his arm. 

Will asked, “That shot hitting you?”  
Mike said quietly, “I guess.”

Will could tell Mike was lost in thought, but it seemed like dark ones. “Are you okay?”

Mike shrugged. 

“Is about what happened with Liz?”

Mike winced. That was a yes.

They drove down Will’s road. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mike tucked his head in the crook of his arm. There was silence but Will didn’t push it. If Mike wanted to talk he would. At least, he hoped he would.

Mike spoke, “I feel like I’ve gone five steps back.”

Will replied, “What are you talking about? You did fine tonight! You drank water and-”

“I don’t mean about drinking, I mean about being alone...”

They pulled up to Will’s house. The lights were on but his mom’s car was gone. She always left the lights on when she went out at night, so that Will could see inside if there was something inside. Or, if they were out, he would know that something was wrong. Will parked the car and turned the engine off.

He unclipped his seat belt and turned to Mike and gently asked, “What do you mean?”

Mike sighed, “I thought I was getting okay at it. I mean, it still hurts. I still miss her. I miss her everyday. But I wasn’t feeling it every moment.” He whispered, “I was starting to forget what it felt like to be needed.”

“Mike…”

He continued, his voice cracking, frustration in every syllable, “But then, fucking Liz leans on my arms and suddenly it all comes back! And I remember what a sheer vacuum she left in my life! And I have to try and forget all over again!”

Will wanted to close the distance. He wanted to hold Mike. But he didn’t trust himself. Did he want to hold Mike because he was his friend, or because he wanted to touch him? He felt like it would be taking advantage of him. He’d have to comfort him with words. But he sucked at those.

Will offered, “I know that this part just feels like shit. And it’s going to feel like that for a while. It’s a set back. But you’ll recover and every day it will get a little more bearable.”

Will hated how cliche it felt to say it. How empty. In truth, he still missed June most days. He had opened himself up to someone completely, like he never had before. He hadn’t been afraid to be himself and to find his voice in his sexuality. He had been allowed to explore being gay without feeling like stereotypes were being pushed onto him or assumptions were made. He felt like his voice had been stifled when June left and that he had to close a part of himself off. 

So, why didn’t he just say that? Why didn’t he just tell Mike the truth?

Mike continued like he didn’t hear Will and he confessed, “You want to know the worst part?” Mike turned to Will. “There was a part of me that wanted it.”

Will blinked confused. Wanted El? “You wanted…?”

Mike unclipped his seatbelt slowly and his shoulders slumped, ashamed. “I wanted her to lean on me. I missed what it had felt like. But… she was drunk.” He put his hands up, shrugging. “And I knew she’d want more. I knew she’d want the dates, the kisses in the hallway, and the promise of a future. And I can’t. I don’t have it in me. I can’t be someone’s boyfriend again.”

Mike’s hands were gripping the fabric of his jeans like a vince, and Will could see Mike’s tears in the dim light. He was shaking. Mike sobbed, “But I still want it, because I’m fucking selfish!” 

Will didn’t think. He just pulled Mike into him, holding his head against his shoulders and wrapping an arm around him. 

Will argued, “You’re allowed to want it. You’re allowed to want to be loved.”

A voice inside him screamed. This was all too much. He felt like he was bearing his heart on his sleeve, like he wouldn’t be able to control his tongue anymore and everything would spill out of him. But Will was scared of losing Mike to this sorrow, so he let down his defenses. 

“I lied before,” Will blurted. “I miss June most days. I distract myself with you guys and I throw myself into my art but it still hurts. I wish I could say that it gets better. It kind of does. There are moments when everything is better. Like tonight, and like when you told me about the youth group in Indianapolis, and I think that’s the way it gets better. There are more of those moments and eventually less of the shitty, lonely ones, but I don’t know.” 

Without meaning to, his fingers had been stroking Mike’s hair. Will realized what he was doing and stopped. Mike turned his head and looked at Will, still leaning on his shoulder. Will’s heart pounded inside his chest. They were so close. Mike’s eyes were looking into his, and searching his face. 

Will realized he was holding his breath, but was afraid to sigh. He worried his every motion would be the indicator that would point out how strongly he still felt for Mike.

Mike asked, “Can you keep doing that?”

His mind reeled. He tentatively stroked Mike’s hair, “Do this?”

Mike nodded and leaned into Will’s neck. Will knew he had been blushing before but now it felt like his face was radiating heat. He could breathe again. Mike wanted this. He didn’t think it was too weird or too intimate. It was comforting to him.

Will thought his heart would burst. He was allowed this touch. He didn’t have to feel ashamed for this affection. It was given and received willingly.

Mike’s arms moved to wrap Will in an embrace, pulling him tighter. But something felt different from before. When he held him before, it was like Mike had been falling apart. But this embrace wasn’t out of sorrow or pain. It was relaxed but firm.

Then, Mike’s lips were on Will’s neck and, for Will the world stopped spinning.


	19. The Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: 
> 
> Talks about cutting; mental process and progression of self harm

He felt Mike’s lips against his neck, in what he thought was a kiss. 

No. His mind reasoned. No. He was imagining things, mistaken. He had to be. 

But then, Will felt the pressure behind Mike’s lips and there was no mistaking it. 

He had kissed him. Will’s breath caught and he turned to look down at Mike. Mike’s eyes were bleary and gazing at him. He, then, sat up slightly but remained just as close. 

“Can I…?”

Will felt dizzy. This couldn’t be happening. They must have died on the way home. They had to be dead because this was heaven and impossible. His best friend, a boy he had loved for what felt like forever, wanted him. Wanted this. 

He could only nod, his voice gone. It probably was a dream. 

Mike leaned in and kissed Will on the lips. Mike’s eyes were closed but Will couldn’t close his, afraid it would all go away. He took in the view of Mike’s black eyelashes and the beautiful pattern of freckles along the bridge of his nose. 

His kiss was soft, warm, and still wet from the tears.

A small part of Will whispered something to try and remind him to feel guilty of this. But he shoved it away. Mike’s hands were on Will’s back and the rest of the world felt like it was melting away. 

His breath was on Will’s face, his nose nuzzling into his. Mike’s mouth began to move against Will’s, beckoning him to part his lips. Will felt his hair stand up. Every inch of his body ignited with the sensation. He felt so lost in this feeling, in every touch from Mike. 

Will’s fingers were still entangled in Mike’s locks of hair. It was all he could do to keep himself from flying away. Mike nudged Will’s lips apart and Will tasted him:

Rum. 

The voice that Will had been trying to tune out spoke again with full force. His logic. His conscious. It burst to the forefront of his mind. 

It yelled, “MIKE IS DRUNK. This is not okay! None of this is! Get the FUCK out of the car! Get him out of the car!”

It was like being woken up from a dream. Will pulled away. 

The voice continued, “You are taking advantage of your best friend! He is drunk, crying, and lonely. And you’re fucking kissing him!”

His mind was going a mile a minute. What had he been thinking? How had he let this happen? He had ruined everything. 

Mike seemed confused. “Will?”

“It’s late, Mike.” Will could feel himself curling back inside himself. Tucking all the words he had spoken tonight and pieces of his heart back behind his defenses. He removed his hands from Mike’s hair and shoulder. “We should go inside.” 

Mike’s arms were still around him. His face was full of hurt. Will could see it in his expression: What did I do? And it killed Will to look, but this had to stop, or Mike would wake up tomorrow and hate him. 

Will could barely whimper out the words, “You’re drunk, Mike…. You’re drunk and we can’t do this. We need to go to bed and we’ll sort it out tomorrow.”

For a moment, Mike’s hands remained on Will’s back, almost stubbornly. But Mike dropped them and sat back, looking down at the floor, avoiding eye contact, and red in the face. He turned and opened the door. As Mike got out, he lost his footing, but caught himself on the roof.

Will got out and ran around to his side. Mike let go of the car and started stumbling down the driveway. 

“Woah! Mike, stop!” Will caught up with him, took Mike’s arm, and slung it over his shoulder. 

Mike slumped against Will and mumbled, “I fucked up.”

Will bit his lip. “You didn’t fuck up. I did.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mike. It’s alright.” 

Will carried Mike up the stairs and into the house. He took Mike into his room. Will was about to get the sleeping bag but stopped. Could he really trust himself sleeping in the same room as Mike? He looked at his friend, who was clumsily taking his shoes off as he sat on the bed. 

Will gave Mike the extra blanket he had grabbed. “You can take the bed tonight.”

Mike looked up, questioningly. 

Will continued, embarrassed, “I’ll take the couch.”

Mike’s eyebrows furrowed, apologetically. “I fucked everything up.”

Will soothed, “We just need some space. I need some space. It’s okay.”

Mike laid down fully clothed. At this point, Mike would probably refuse anything that wasn’t sleeping. So, Will didn’t offer to grab Mike’s change of clothes out of the car. He probably couldn’t put them on himself anyway. Will filled up a cup of water and grabbed the aspirin. He brought it in to Mike, who was now definitely asleep. 

Will nudged him to drink and take the medicine, which he did, tired but resigned. Mike mumbled a question, “Tomorrow will be better?”

Will didn’t answer. Mike had fallen back asleep anyway. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

He didn’t. He had no idea what would happen tomorrow. But he was certain that he’d spend the night anguishing over every possible scenario unless he had something to distract himself. 

Will looked around his room for his sketchbook, pens, cassettes, and his walkman. As he was grabbing them, he saw The Smiths tape. His hand hovered over the plastic case. 

The voice that had reasoned him out of the car scolded again, “Don’t take that one. You’ll just end up crying.”

To which, Will argued silently, “Fuck off. If I want to listen to The Smiths and ball my eyes out I will!” If there was ever a time to cry, it was now.

Will went out to the living room and set up his bed for the night. Then, he laid down on the couch and threw the covers over his head. He wanted to hide from the world, from this night, from everything that had happened.

His thoughts echoed, “I’m such an idiot.” He knew he was opening something up in him. A cadence that had taken years of therapy to subdue. A self-hating mantra that spiraled down someplace dark. But it felt familiar and he didn't want to fight it tonight. 

He put his headphones on and listened to the melodic vocals of Morrissey’s “Asleep”. The melancholic song called forth everything and Will sobbed into his pillow. He pressed his face into the fabric, shutting out the air. The words and the chords creating a soundtrack to Will’s regrets.

“I hate myself.” He thought, squinting his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face. “I hate myself.” The mantra continued. “You’re so stupid. You’ve ruined everything.” “He’s gonna hate you.” 

“What’ll happen tomorrow?”

Will could picture Mike’s face, full of disgust. His voice saying, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.” He could see Mike avoiding him at school. He apologized profusely, but in this vision, Mike was cold. “You wanted it, didn’t you? Is that why you hung out with me when I was drunk? You were hoping for this.” 

“You’re scum.” His thoughts chanted. 

He brought his head up, gasping. No. He had to stop. He went over what usually calmed him when he was feeling anxious: worst case, best case, and what will probably happen.

Worst case scenario: Mike hated him and didn’t want to be his friend, or even be near him.

He had already thought out that scene and quickly moved on. 

Will pictured the next scenario. “Best case,” Will thought, “Mike is actually gay and wants to be my boyfriend…” The thought was so impossible to him that he added sarcastically, “And we live happily ever after.” Will gave out a hollow laugh. The way he pictured it was campy and over the top, like a scene out of I Love Lucy or Leave it to Beaver. It was funny to picture Mike being a homemaker- apron and everything- cooking dinner on the stove. He had to make it fake. He forced himself to stop fantasizing about anything romantic happening with Mike a long time ago.

He moved on. What will probably happen: Mike would be awkward. They both would be, but they’d still manage to be friends.

“No. That’s the best case scenario.”

His mind replayed all the awkward side glances he’d received from Mike the last time he had kissed him. 

“And that was just a peck. Compared to what happened tonight, that kiss was nothing. You made out with Mike while he was drunk.”

He tried to fight the voice back, “But I stopped it before it got any further.”

“You think that matters? Mike knows now. He knows that you still like him. That you still want him. How do you think you could possibly go back to being friends?” 

Will put his head in his hands, digging his fingernails into his scalp. 

“You’ve lost him. You don’t deserve him.” His hands went to his arm and he dug his nails into the skin. Scratching himself.

“Stop scratching and just cut yourself.” 

The thought rang out above the din of the others and Will jolted upright. He knew the tone. In sophomore year, he had been lured by that part of his mind. Will touched the scars on his arms. He felt so ashamed of them. It had started with scratching and pinching and evolved into cutting. 

He couldn’t go back to that. 

He sat up, grabbed the pen from his sketchbook and drew a moth on the place he had been scraping. It had been advice from one of the psychologists. She had suggested he draw on himself when he got the urge to cut. She said that former patients of hers turned their former scars into tattoos. Someday he hoped to do that, too. 

Will focused on the details of the moth. The pen scratched his skin but his hands were tender as he drew. They felt like caresses. They felt like love. “I love myself,” he thought. “There are parts about myself I hate. There are parts of myself I want to change but I still love me.” 

For a long time, those words had felt like a lie. He had been told to write a small mantra to himself to counter the self-hating record that would play in his head before and while he hurt himself. 

They were real now. Because he did love himself, his life, and his family. They were his core, his rock, and foundation. For a while, they and his friends were the only reason he didn’t kill himself. 

He had seen what his absence had done to his mom and brother and no matter how much he hated himself, no matter how much he wanted to stop the nightmares and the flashbacks, he could never bring himself to death’s door. No. He would tear his skin to shreds before he’d kill himself.

It hadn’t been enough to live for them, though. He had to want to be alive for himself. He had to find things about himself to love. Reasons to want to go on. 

And, with time, he did. He learned to channel his fear, his blame, his internalized anger into his art and it helped. He built worlds with Mike for their RPG games, which had the bonus effect of repairing the awkwardness between them and it helped. He and the party started making videos in AV Club. And he started making friends in art class, outside his group. And then, he met June and suddenly he didn’t feel alone. He learned to separate the things he hated about himself and find the parts he loved.

He loved himself for his creativity. 

He loved himself for being his friends’ confidante. He loved how they trusted him.

He loved himself for his hidden strength. The strength that had carried him through every horrific second in the Upside Down. That broke through the Mind Flayer’s grasp. And he loved himself for that secret power.

Although being gay was no longer a thing he hated about himself, he didn’t love himself for it either. But he loved how June had felt, lying against his chest. He loved that he’d been needed and wanted. June had said that Will gave him the strength to come out to his mom, who despite having a strict and traditional Korean upbringing, loved him anyway. 

These thoughts intertwined themselves into the inked marks on his skin. They were like an armor or a ward. But Will could still feel the echoes of the darkness in his mind. He didn’t trust the quiet. He didn’t trust himself. So, he took out The Smiths and he put in the White Witch, Stevie Nicks herself, to further ward the evil away.

Jonathan and Will had spent their childhood listening to Fleetwood Mac. Stevie Nicks’ enchanting voice would reverberate on the walls after a bad fight, or when their mother was particularly drained. They would watch her transform with the chords and suddenly she’d pick them up and dance. They would watch life flow back into her. 

Will held the Walkman tight as he got lost in the songs. He filled his mind with possibilities. With the man he could grow up to be. He pictured living in California, working at a studio designing concept art and make up for horror movies. He imagined coming home to someone. Not June and not Mike. Someone with long, dark hair, tucked into a ponytail and glasses, and with a beard that was at least twice the beard Will could ever hope to grow. Someone who would wrap him in his arms and hold him tight. Or maybe forget a man altogether and just have a dog. A big, beautiful, and fluffy dog that would just be ridiculously happy to see him everytime he walked through the door. 

They were fantasies, but they were only possible if he got they through the night. He had to keep himself away from the knives in the kitchen or he might open a doorway to something darker than before. He may forget how to live for himself and how to love himself. He may no longer find the strength to live, not even for his family. 

So, he listened to the enchantress sing, he envisioned the possibilities of a life outside of Hawkins, and put out all thoughts of the immediate future. Tomorrow would come and bring whatever it had in store. But Will would live. He had people who would still love him. And despite how much he hated what he’d allowed to happen, he loved himself. And he promised that he would make it through.


	20. The Drawer

At some point in the middle of the night, Will knew his mom come home, hearing the keys clatter on the table in part of a half dream. But then Joyce leaned over and touched His arm, the one with the moth drawn on it. She knew what that meant. 

Her distressed voice woke him up, “Sweetie, what happened?”

Will wasn’t ready for this. His eyes ached from crying and he still wasn’t fully awake. He replied, “Mom, I don't want to talk about it.”

“Baby-”

“Mom, please. I’m so tired. Please. I’ll tell you tomorrow, I promise. Just please. I just wanna sleep.”

Will felt horrible. But confiding in his mom took more strength than he had at the moment. He’d have to tell her everything- about still having feelings for Mike, about Mike’s drinking problem, and about how he was the gateway for getting to parties. 

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow, then. I love you so much, sweetie.” He heard her voice crack. 

“I love you, Mommy.” He hoped calling her by the old endearment would reassure her.

He closed his already drooping eyelids and felt her fingers leave his hair. Then, a few moments later, he heard the metallic sounds of silverware clinking. 

The knife drawer.

He sat upright, hoping he was wrong. But there she was, collecting the knives to hide away somewhere and Will’s heart broke. “Mom, I promise I won’t. The worst part’s over.”

She looked up, startled. He could see her cheeks shining with tears. “I- I know, baby. But I don’t- I just can’t-” she restarted, “I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t.”

She hurried quickly, putting the knives into a paper bag, and taking them into her room. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, frustrated with himself for handling it so shittily. He should have said something more to her when she woke him up. There was no way he could go back to sleep now. Will threw the covers off and made his way to her room, knocking gently before coming in.

He saw her sitting on the bed, hunched over, with her face in her hands. Will sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her to lean on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Mom.”

When did she start seeming so small? 

“I should be home. I should have been here.”

“Mom, it’s alright.”

“No, Will, it’s not! I’m your mother! But I’ve spent most of your life working! I’ve been gone more than I’ve been around!”

Will squeezed her a little tighter. “You and I both know that’s not true. You have been around for me more than anybody else. And you’ve saved me more times than I can count.”

“Any mother would have-”

“I'm not talking the crazy stuff, Mom. I mean all the appointments you drove me to. The therapists we cycled through. Being there for me through everything life has thrown at me, at us. Don’t belittle any of that.”

“But I wasn’t here. I haven’t been here. It’s your last year of high school and I’m working a second job. I’m missing little moments with you and I’m missing moments where I should be here to help you.”

“Next year, I’ll be living on my own. I’ll have to get through those moments alone. But I’m doing alright. You’ve helped me get here. To a place where the worst I’ll do is draw on my arm.”

She sniffed. “Can I see it?” She asked.

Will knew she was really looking for new cuts. And despite the little sting of shame, he knew it would comfort her, so he rolled up his sleeve.

The cuts were small and most had healed with time. He hadn’t cut in over a year, despite the break up with June. Joyce had been so worried. Everybody had. They thought the break up would send Will over the edge. But, for the first time, Will felt like he could blame someone else. He had always put things on himself. What could he have done better? What could he have done to make his father stay? To prevent being pulled into the Upside Down? To have avoided the Shadow Monster’s grip?

Will felt like he was allowed to be mad at June, who wanted to sleep around, make out, and experiment with other guys. Despite the sting of rejection and feeling like he couldn’t measure up, Will couldn’t blame himself entirely. June had always been a flirt (around girls, as it was safer). So, Will felt like he could lash out at times when June called, and he called repeatedly. Via phone at least, June was still around. 

Will still fought the sorrow everyday but because everyone had been so concerned, Will barely had a chance to go to dark places. Mike and El had whisked him away on adventures at every turn. The party would distract him with new campaigns, and movie nights. They’d spend hours at the arcade. His friends in art class would ambush him in the hallways. Jonathan called nearly every night. And his mom would hold him and listen in the quiet moments.

He felt loved, surrounded by it.

But tonight, the thought of losing Mike had been the closest he’d come to relapsing. Because he had felt alone. He hadn’t told anyone about what was going on. Even the thought of telling his mom about it now made his chest tighten. 

But he had to stop keeping this. Or it could kill him.

“Mom?”

Her fingers were still on his arm, hovering below the cuts. 

“Yes, baby?”

“Remember when I had that crush on Mike?”

She lifted her eyes, in understanding and sympathy. “Oh, sweetie…”

Will suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything. But it was too late, he had to say it. “I know. It’s back.”

She sighed and now wrapped her arm around him. “It’s just because you’re lonely and you’re seeing it in Mike, too.” 

“I wish I could make it go away.”

“I know, honey. I know. I’ve been there.”

He sat up, “You have?”

 

“Yeah…” Joyce avoided his gaze, “With Hopper… when we were younger.”

He was confused, “In high school?” She had told him that she and Hopper had dated in high school. She hadn’t wished it away, they loved each other. So, what was she talking about? 

“It was... “ She put a hand to her face, embarrassed, “When I was pregnant with you…”

Will choked, “WHAT?”

“It’s not something I am particularly proud of. But I was pregnant and hormonal. And Hopper was helping me out with this house when your father was convinced I should sell it. You know I inherited this house from-”

“From Aunt Jenine.”

“Yes. Well, it was a lot of work that your father wasn’t willing to put in the time or effort. Really I should have seen the writing on the wall then… but I was so young. I don’t know. Anyway, Hopper came to help, as a friend, and I started falling for him all over again.”

Will’s eyes were wide. She had never told this to him before. “What did you do?”

She sighed. “I told him that he needed to leave. That Lonnie and I should be working on this house together. Even if I had to drag him by the scruff of his neck to do it. I had to make this house a home with him.” She wiped the tears under her cheeks. He couldn’t tell if they were old or new. “Next thing I knew, he was in Indianapolis with Diane, his girlfriend, who quickly became his wife.” There was bitterness there. It was faint, but Will could tell. She still loved Hopper. They had gotten back together during Will’s freshman year and had been dating, though still living separately, for most of Will’s time in high school. 

At least until El left. 

His mom was hurting, too. Hopper was drowning himself in the bottle and she had lost him again. 

Joyce continued, “I wouldn’t say my actions are the prime example to live by. I always regret the way I pushed Hopper away. But maybe some space between you might be a good thing.”

Will didn’t want to argue. It would mean telling her more and he was exhausted.

“Yeah…”

“But don’t blame yourself for how you feel. The heart wants what it wants, regardless of circumstances.”

“It would be really nice if I could blame it on being pregnant, though.”

“Well, you can blame it on the hormones until you’re like 23, I think.”

Will scrunched up his nose, and shook his head. “Gross.”

Joyce smiled and squeezed Will a little tighter. A yawn escaped Will’s grasp. Joyce tousled his hair. “You should go to bed, sweetie. Get some sleep and everything will be better in the morning.”

Will nodded, “I know. Thanks for listening.” 

“Anytime and I mean it. Regardless what timezone you’re in. Any time.”

Will smiled, “I know. Goodnight, Mom.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

Will walked out the room and down the hallway past his door. A thought whispered fear. Was Mike sleeping on his side? What if he had choked? Will didn’t think he’d been drunk enough for that but the thought was enough to make him turn the knob. He peered in and saw Mike sleeping, curled up and on his side. His black hair framing his face, breathing peacefully. Will didn’t dare step inside, his heart was beating too fast. How could they go back to normal? How could he look at Mike now and not think about that kiss, that moment of need and beautiful intimacy? Will bit his lip and closed the door. He was glad his eyelids were so heavy, and his body exhausted, because he knew, if he let himself, the self-loathing cycle would start back up. 

Will laid back down on the couch and fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has been so long! >A< I was trying to do a double update but this next chapter is taking forever!! Hope you enjoy and thank you for continuing to read! <3


	21. Confronting the Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I don’t think there’s been a chapter I have edited this much! Hope you enjoy!

Mike nuzzled into the blankets, half asleep, surrounded by the smell of Will. He realized the scent was more intense, concentrated. Mike wasn’t just in Will’s room…

He was in his bed. 

He opened his eyes, confused, and looked around. There wasn’t a sleeping bag set out at all. 

Where was Will?

He couldn’t remember falling asleep. He tried replaying the night in his head. Everything from the party was clear and he could remember taking that last shot. Then, sensations came back. The wind on his face in the car. The heat from the tears on his cheeks. The soft touch of Will’s lips on his. 

He jolted upright, his mind reeling. Everything was coming back in pieces. He remembered having his head on Will’s shoulder and asking, “Can I?” He could recall his thoughts and feelings from the night before.

When Will had held him, it felt like he could breathe again. Most days he felt like he was holding onto something tight in his chest, but, last night, the burden had been lifted. It felt so good to be held in someone’s arms again. He had been drunk off the feeling, in addition to the alcohol. He wanted more of that closeness, that intimacy… and so he had kissed Will to fill himself up with it.

Mike had, in his drunken state, reasoned, “I can be this for Will.” He recalled how true it felt at the time- that he could fill Will’s empty space, too. Mike knew Will would never drink but maybe kissing could be his way to let go, his release. 

Yet, in the morning light of sobriety, Mike knew how wrong he’d been. Kissing wouldn’t be a release for Will, it would only serve to make things more complicated. 

What the fuck had he been thinking? He’d ruined everything. He had to fix this.

Mike threw off the covers and walked out of the room. His feet quietly padding across the carpet. When he got to the end of the hallway and saw Will’s sleeping figure, his guilt felt like a punch in the gut.

He approached slowly, suddenly terrified at the prospect of waking him up. What would he say? But really, what could he say? He had crossed a line. A big one. 

He watched Will’s chest rise and fall, feeling something else flip inside him. His eyes lingered on the sleeping sighs escaping from Will’s lips. He had enjoyed kissing Will but he couldn’t understand why. They had grown up together. Kissing him should have felt like kissing a brother or sister. But it hadn’t. It had felt different, relieving and exciting, like something unspoken had been finally said. 

Will had liked him for so long. For a while, Mike thought Will’s feelings for him had faded. Will seemed so happy with June. But when they broke up, Mike saw the longing come back in Will’s eyes and the awkwardness in his actions. Will had begun pulling himself away from Mike in little ways. He was more aware of their proximity and, if too close, he would move away from Mike. 

The kiss had been like releasing a spring, the energy that had been held back for so long, expended. He liked how Will relaxed under his touch. 

The thought brought heat to Mike’s face. What the hell was wrong with him? He shoved the thought away. It had been the liquor and the fact that he was lonely. He had used Will to escape that intensely empty feeling. Mike summoned his guilt, reminding himself of how he should feel about the whole situation.

He sighed. How were they supposed to come back from this?

Mike reached out to try and wake up Will. He couldn’t sit with his thoughts anymore. He wanted to apologize and clear the air. He wanted to make things right.

But as he touched Will’s arm, he saw the blue marks of the ink, and he stopped. Mike knew what they meant… Will had nearly cut himself. He pulled his hand away. 

He remembered Will pulling back from the kiss. 

“We should go inside,” Will had said. Mike could hear the crack in his voice again. Mike had hurt him. He had been senseless and selfish. He hadn’t thought about how Will would feel or what it would do to him. He had been drunk and impulsive. And it nearly cost all of Will’s progress.

It would be freshman year all over again. He was making Will relapse and nothing made him hate himself more. He couldn’t keep anyone that needed him. Not El. Not Will. He felt like a weight that dragged people down. 

He’d only keep hurting Will if he stayed. 

Mike silently stood up and walked out of the house.  
_______________________________________

Will heard the door close and woke up. His eyes felt puffy and sore, and his whole body seemed heavier. He just wanted to sleep til Monday. He glanced at the clock, confused. It was too early for his mom’s shift at Melvald’s. Where was she going? Then, a thought occurred to him and shook him to his core. What if Mike had woken up… and remembered?

Will shoved the covers off and made his way down the hallway, hoping with every fiber of his being that Mike was still asleep. When he looked in his bedroom, his breath caught, frozen in his chest. The bed was empty and Mike was gone.

Will covered his mouth holding in a sob that threatened to rack his whole body. Mike didn’t want to be near him. This would be worse than freshman year. It would be worse than June leaving. He’d lose one of the few people who kept him grounded, who kept him together and sane. 

He could picture Mike avoiding him at school. The cruel imaginings from the night before started coming back. He wanted to crumble to the ground. He wanted to shrink into nothingness and fade away. 

But there was that stronger part of himself that shouted, “Get up! Go after him! Apologize until you’re blue in the face, but don’t let it end like this! Without him knowing how sorry you are! Don’t let your friendship die in silence!”

All their years, nearly Will’s whole life. Mike had been there through the worst, through everything. He couldn’t let this happen. There was too much at stake.   
_______________________________________

As Mike walked out the door, the bitter, freezing air rushed through him and he shivered. He didn’t have shoes or a coat on. The reality hit him. He would be walking through the cold, on the dirt road, barefoot. 

He chided himself, “Dramatic, much?” The crisp air woke him up. If he truly wanted to walk home, he’d have to go back inside to get his shoes and risk waking Will. The thought lead to a realization:

“This is cowardly.” 

He sat himself on the steps. He still felt every bit responsible for the inked marks on Will’s arm. He still felt like he was a danger to his friend’s mental health, but leaving like this would be much worse. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Removing himself from his friend’s life wasn’t his decision to make: it was WIll’s. 

Suddenly the door opened and Will came out, “Mike, wait!” 

He damn near tripped over Mike, who was sitting on the step, his head previously clasped in his hands. 

“Will!” He exclaimed, standing up. Will blinked in surprise but before he could say anything, Mike blurted, “I’m sorry, Will. I don’t know what I was thinking last night. I was the biggest fucking idiot and you don’t have to forgive me, but just know that I was stupid and wrong and I’m sorry.”

Will seemed stunned. “I- I thought you left.”

Mike averted his eyes, shaking his head. “I just needed to clear my head out here.” He wasn’t about to let him know that he had been, lest Will get the wrong idea.

Will stumbled, he meant to apologize first, but Mike beat him to it. “I’m the one who should be sorry…”

Mike straightened, his face expressing the absurdity of the suggestion, “For what?”

“For… not stopping you.”

“But you did!”

“I mean sooner. I should have stopped it sooner.”

Mike was in disbelief. Did Will actually blame himself for what happened? “Will, none of what happened last night was on you. I’m the one who crossed the line. A huge fucking line,” he scolded himself, “After I was the one who told you needed to say where your lines were, I just steamrolled over them anyway.” His tone softened, “None of that is on you, Will.”

Will was exasperated, relieved, and frustrated all at once. He was mentally kicking himself for letting his emotions get the better of him the night before. He should have known better. Of course, Mike didn’t hate him. But the guilt was still there. He had been so angry at himself and now, according to Mike, it was for no reason at all. 

Will snapped, “Then, I’m sorry for liking it, okay?” His eyes widened, immediately regretting it.

Mike sat back down on the step. “I don’t blame you for that.” 

Will followed suit, sitting beside him, “But… I should be over it.”

“And, according to Lucas, I should be over El. But I’m not. You can’t help how you feel.”

“But... doesn’t it bother you?”

“The only thing that bothers me is that I disregarded your boundaries last night.”

It was quiet. The boys sat in the silence, listening to the wind rustle through the branches of Mirkwood, the soundtrack to their childhood. 

Will gulped, he wanted to ask. A part of him barked at him to keep the question inside and be thankful that Mike still wanted to be friends. But he had to know, “Why did you do it?”

Mike hung his head, ashamed and blushing, “Because… I think I wanted to feel needed. I wanted to be close with someone. And you were… you were there…and... I’m sorry. God, that sounds so shitty.” He put his head in his hands.

The words stung. It was because Will had been there when Mike was vulnerable. He put himself in Mike’s path, making himself available for him; allowing Mike to need him. 

Mike continued, his tone trying to hide the sadness in it, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m biting every hand that feeds me, and you keep reaching your hand out.” Will could see Mike steadying his breath. “I’m so scared of hurting you. I don’t want to, Will. But I’m being exceptionally selfish and I’m taking advantage of you. I don’t want to set you back or drag you down. So, I won’t be hurt if you want to keep your distance. I’d be relieved.”

I’d sooner die, Will thought. He closed his eyes. Here Mike was offering the very thing that Will knew was best for both of them. The advice that everyone said- June, his mom, Dustin- “give each other space.” But when Will opened his eyes and looked at Mike, he saw the familiar shadow that had once loomed over him. Would Lucas or Dustin or Max be able to understand? Mike was showing every sign of depression. No matter how much Will loved his friends, they’d never been through it before. And people didn’t always have the patience to understand what it really was. 

He’d found, more often than not, people didn’t want to talk about the dark stuff. Understandably so. Many people tried to cheer Will up, and got awkward or quiet when their efforts didn’t suddenly make it go away. He’d lost touch with a few people that way through high school. Making friends was that much harder because they didn’t know how to handle him on his dark days or moments. Will learned how to cover it up at times. He’d fake being happy in the moment, so that his friends would feel like they succeeded in cheering him up, even though it felt like a mask and impossible at times. For the most part, it was something he had to do with his friends in art, but there were times he had to put on that face even with the Party. 

Would they have the patience to sit with Mike in the sadness? To deal with his drinking? If Will distanced himself, would Mike end up feeling more lonely and push himself further into the bottle? It wasn’t a chance Will wanted to take. To hell with distance. 

Will reassured him, “I’ll be fine, Mike. I am fine.” 

Mike looked up at him, sadly. He hated how Will wouldn’t open up to him. How often he pretended to be okay. He touched Will’s sleeve, “No, you’re not.”

Will felt a wave of shame. He wished he had scrubbed off that goddamn moth last night. He hated that both his mom and Mike saw the ink as weakness, when he saw it as strength. The ink was a sign that he pulled himself out of those thoughts. That he’d stopped himself.

Mike’s fingers were on the edge of the Will’s sleeve, “How many of those are from me?” 

Will wished Mike never knew what the ink meant. But he did and it was something Will would have to keep proving: that he was okay. That he could handle the darkness now.

Will said, firmly, “None. They were all from me.”

“But if I hadn’t-”

“Mike. I hated myself for what I had allowed to happen. I hated myself for the people I had let die… especially, Bob.”

“But that wasn’t your fault!”

“I know that! Believe me, everyone has told me, and I’ve rationalized it myself. But nothing about these,” He pointed, “Is rational. It was an emotional response when I was overwhelmed. When I couldn’t handle the nightmares or the flashbacks, they reminded me that I was here. That I was alive and that the Mind Flayer wasn’t inside me anymore. He wouldn’t have let the knife get that close.” Will whispered, remembering, “He hated pain.” Then, he shook the memory away, “But I don’t cut myself anymore. It took a long time for me to get here and there were so many times I thought of giving in, but I’ve gotten myself here. I have methods to cope. I draw on my arm, but that is the furthest I will ever let myself get. I promised you, Mike. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll promise again.” 

Mike averted his eyes. Will had promised before- the last time he had seen a cut, nearly two years ago. He hadn’t since, not to Mike’s knowledge. He wanted to believe Will, but he never reached out when he needed it. 

Mike said, “You don’t have to promise again. I know you meant it. But… like you said… it’s emotional. Emotions don’t always let you keep those promises.” 

Will nodded. There was a lump in his throat. Mike’s hands were still at Will’s sleeve and his heart was doing stupid things to him. 

Mike was lost in thought. Even though he still felt responsible, he would stay. He had offered to give Will space and he refused. A part of Mike felt insanely relieved but he knew it was selfish and he hated himself for that. Mike inwardly swore that he would be more cautious in the future. He wouldn’t let himself get like that again. He realized his fingers were still holding Will’s sleeve. 

He quickly made up an excuse, as if he was inspecting the blue markings. He asked, “What did you draw anyway?”

Will rolled up his sleeve a little, enough to see the moth but not enough for Mike to see the faded scars. 

“Holy shit!” He was legitimately stunned at the level of detail, “You drew that?” Will’s art never ceased to amaze him.

Will shrugged, a mixture of both proud and embarrassed, “Yeah.”

Mike smirked, trying to lighten the situation, “You know, if you decide you want to stay in Hawkins for whatever reason, you could become the resident tattoo artist.”

He scoffed, “Oh, yeah? Sounds great.” A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “How about you be the first in line?”

“Sure,” He suggested sarcastically, “Maybe a snake tattoo right around my eye.”

“Perfect. It’s so you, sweater-boy.”

Mike’s laugh rang out, and Will felt the strings of his heart being played like a harp. Please, no, he thought. He was falling for Mike, hard. 

Mike smiled, “I changed my mind. Give me a die-20 that says, ‘Sweater boy’ underneath it.” 

Will suddenly felt bashful. He desperately wanted this feeling to go away. He thought, ‘Just be happy he’s still your friend and stop being ridiculous.’ 

But Will faked it well enough, “Noted.”

Mike tilted his head, thinking out loud, “Maybe a dragon, though. Not realistic, just like a symbol or logo.”

Will did a double take. “You’re not serious.”

Mike shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not gonna go out of my way to get a tattoo but if you ever start doing tattoos and need someone to practice on, I’d be your guinea pig.”

Just like that, Mike had clicked back into the swing of things, like nothing had happened. He was effortlessly intimate. He said it so casually, “I’d be your guinea pig,” and the thought of Mike being Will’s anything was enough to give him butterflies. 

Will fought them off, “You’re gonna eat those words when it looks like a fat cow.” 

“I think you’d at least manage to make it look like a lumpy salamander.”

Will smiled. Mike made it look so easy to just go back to being friends. There was a quiet silence between them. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. How the hell was he supposed to look at Mike and not want to melt into his arms? It seemed that the guilt and the blame had been the only thing keeping him from weakening in Mike’s presence. Now that he knew Mike wasn’t mad, it was as if his heart had been given free reign. He didn’t know how long he could keep the charade up. 

Will asked, quietly, “What should we do?”

Mike stared at the bottom step, lost in thought. He decided he would pretend things were normal until they were again. “We can think of it… like a fight.”

Will looked at Mike, confused. 

Mike explained, “We’ve had fights before, but we apologize and then move on. Maybe it can be like that. We both said sorry, although yours wasn’t necessary, as it was MY fault, so it’s done.”

Suddenly, Will annoyance twinged inside him. It may have been done for Mike but it certainly wasn’t for him. Didn’t Mike get that? Maybe he was just trying to ease Will’s mind but he couldn’t help the bitterness, “So, what about when you drink?”

Mike cringed. His body completely tense. “I… I don’t think you should drive me anymore, Will. I’ll get Lucas or Dustin. But… I take advantage of you... and your patience. All the lying… It’s like I’ve been burning bridges left and right. I don’t want to do that with you… or with the guys.” He drew a shaky breath. 

Will knew he was supposed to feel relieved, not disappointed. He hated that there was a part of him that liked taking care of Mike in those moments. But he also knew that he had to stop feeding that feeling. If he wanted to be friends with Mike, he had to be careful.

But a thought occurred and his heart sank as he said, “Well, then… you don’t have to drive me to Indianapolis, since you won’t need it as a cover now. I can-”

Mike seemed incensed, “Will! Of course I’ll still take you! It’s the least I can do after all this!”

Will fought off the ridiculous smile that threatened to reveal his excitement.

Mike doubled back, suddenly nervous, “That is, unless, you don’t want me to.”

He blurted, “I want to.”

“Okay, then. It’s settled.” And there was that gentle smile, spreading over his perfect lips on that beautiful face. 

Will hoped Mike couldn’t see the 12 layers of red he could feel rising to his cheeks. He used to be able to keep it in check. He never felt like he was in this deep before. But now... the caresses from the night before phantomed across his back. He could feel the inches between Mike and his hands and his fingers itched to close the distance. The thought of doing so terrified him enough to stand up. He had to.

“I should probably get you home.” Will said, suddenly realizing how much it sounded like he was kicking Mike out. He was, but it sounded like it, “Or at least get your clothes out of the car.” Oh, fuck, the car, he thought. It was tainted forever. How was he supposed to sit in the same seat and not remember the smell or feel the pressure on his lips? “I’ll get them.” He volunteered. He chided himself to stop being so awkward. He was being so obvious. 

As he walked to the car, he thought, “Maybe I should be obvious. Maybe then Mike will stop treating me so wonderfully. Maybe he will put some distance between us.” But no sooner had he thought it, did he want to take it back. He wanted to soak up every kindness and live in it. Besides, Mike had already offered to do just that, and Will had said he was fine. He had lied.   
__________________

Mike watched him walk to the car, his hands gripping the ends of his shirt tightly. He felt uneasy. Will was being awkward again. Extremely awkward. He knew it would take time to correct this. For Will and him to get back into their familiar pattern. But he hadn’t expected the feelings inside him to be churning like this. Kissing Will had open up something or, rather, broken something: a wall between them- the amount of touch that was allowed between friends. The last time this had happened, he and Will found a way to build it back up. But this time was different and Mike wasn’t sure how to repair the wall. 

Or if he wanted to repair it at all. 

Mike shook his head. If Will had been able to wait out Mike’s awkward phase, Mike could wait. He’d be patient… they would fall back into their routine, into the familiar lines of their friendship.

And Mike would try not to think about the kiss.


	22. The Fight

Will closed his locker and leaned his head against it. Was it really only 4th period? It was Monday and he had no idea how he was supposed to get through the rest of the day, let alone the rest of the week. 

His body had been alternating between tense and fluttery throughout most of the morning. He spent nearly all of history class staring at Mike and fighting back daydreams. He caught himself gazing at Mike’s hand- the way it cradled his chin and how his fingers framed his cheek. And his mind wandered to thinking about how his fingers would feel on his face, in his hair, on his neck...

Under his shirt.

The thought had rushed to his mind so quickly that he’d dropped his pen in embarrassment. The teacher turned around, an eyebrow raised. Had it been anyone other than Will, he might have considered the disturbance a challenge to his instruction. But because Will had all the threat of a field mouse. 

The teacher simply sighed and said, “You falling asleep, Byers?”

“No, sir!” 

The teacher huffed and went back to writing on the board. Mike turned around to check on him. Will raised his eyebrows and shrugged. He knew he was making a ridiculous face but Mike gestured torward the teacher and rolled his eyes. The look communicating, “Don’t worry about him. He’s an ass.”

Will faked a smile, nodding. He picked up his pen and started writing what the teacher was saying absent-mindedly. Could Mike tell? Was he being oblivious or insanely kind? Will had no idea but for the remainder of the class, he kept his eyes glued to his notebook. 

He was horrified at himself, at how easily his mind had wandered. He craved the intimacy so intensely. He desperately wished he could shove the feelings back into the bottle they’d leaked out of. 

At the very least, Mike and Will wouldn’t have the same class again until 8th period. He could calm himself during AP Art and put his feelings back in check. He would eat lunch in the art room. He told the guys he had a bunch of work to do- which wasn’t really a lie. He did. Portfolios were due next month. He had a lot of his breadth work done- all of his finished, polished, and best pieces. At this point, he was working on getting sketch work and a few more pieces of his concentration finished. 

The concentration portion of the portfolio was made up of a series of artworks centered around one main idea or theme. Will had chosen “Strange” as his theme, since he gravitated towards the bizarre anyway. He had some pieces he was really proud of: like the portrait where he had Lucas transforming into a werewolf. Will had used the transformation scene from “An American Werewolf in London” as a reference and had broken his copy from the amount of times he’d rewound it. Lucas bought him another copy of the video in exchange for the promise that he could have the finished drawing. 

Art helped Will through some of the roughest parts that high school had to offer. Not just the process of creation but also the atmosphere of the art room, which was so different from most of high school. The other students in class with him tended to be on his side of strange, too. For the most part, they were proud of being the weird ones. They were colorful, and outspoken, and made him laugh. He had, at one time, tried being the quiet kid in the corner, but Pat wouldn’t let him. 

Pat was his friend who had all the aesthetic of (and love for) Boy George. She radiated personality and could on any given day of the week, be caught belting out a song and twirling on the walk from the parking lot to the school. Somehow, she decided to be friends with Will. She had initially met him through June. They were both so exuberant and vivid, so of course, they had been friends. Sometimes Will didn’t understand why either of them decided to spend their time with someone so quiet as him. 

Perhaps he made a good audience. 

Pat bounded over to Will, nearly tackling him in a hug. “Careful, Gloomy Bear. Your rain clouds are showing.” 

He hadn’t quite realized how on-display he’d just been. He felt so out of sorts. All the careful stitching over the years to keep his emotions and thoughts inside were falling apart at the seams. 

When he didn’t respond, she added, “Everything okay?”

He didn’t want to talk about it. He knew he needed to, but he couldn’t at school. 

“I’ll be fine. But can you hug me again? I wasn’t ready for it.”

She mock gasped, “Are you going to lift me like in Dirty Dancing??”

“Do I look like Patrick Swayze to you?”

“No, but maybe if you did something with this mop.” She tousled his hair then wrapped him up in the biggest hug her little form could. He squeezed her tight. Everything would be fine, he thought. 

Then, he lifted her up and she squealed. 

A girl leaning against her locker called out, “Prowling on the homo now, Pat?”

Without missing a beat, Pat raised her middle finger and responded, “Go find a new dick to suck.”

The girl’s face twisted in utter disgust. She walked away, calling out, “You’re a scumbag.” 

“Raggedy-ass bitch.” Pat said back. 

Despite the crudeness, Will admired how she could just shoot back with her comments. Will, and most of his friends, had never acquired that skill. Not including Max, who was actually pretty eloquent with her wit and insults. Pat was just vulgar. He caught on that she had mostly pre-loaded insults that she carried with her and fired as needed. 

He never used to hang out with girls. But since coming out, guys willing to speak to him were rare. Even when he tried to hang out with other guys in his class, he felt like he had to put on an act to compensate for the stereotypes surrounding his orientation. He’d find himself trying to seem more masculine and it was just exhausting. He didn’t have to put on a display for the girls in the art room. They accepted who he was and had come to be very protective over him. He felt safe amongst them. 

Pat smiled at Will, the vinegar gone from her voice, “Sorry about that. Should we give them something to talk about?” 

He tilted his head. 

“We could fake it on the way to art class. Pretend to be the perfectly normal, dream team couple.”

Will laughed. Pat was a rollercoaster and he could never seem to catch up.

“Put your jean jacket on me, like it’s your letterman. And I’ll be bashful and cute.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of being bashful.”

“Trust me. I’m an actress.”

Will shook his head and threw his jacket over her shoulders. He had to hold his laugh in for most of the walk because her performance of being ‘bashful’ was over the top and ridiculous. But it distracted him and it loosened the knot in his stomach from the morning. It was crazy. Everyone was staring, which Will normally hated, but when Pat was like this, he felt more like a prop. She drew the attention away from him.

When they got to Art, he did his part and held open the door. The bell rung and Pat lifted up her hands. 

“Miraculously on time!”

Ms. Murphy held the corners of her eyes, exasperated, “Patricia Agatha, will you please just get to work?”

“Gladly!” She bounded over to their table at the back with LeAnn and Grace. Will grabbed his unfinished artwork from the drawer and looked it over. The pieces he was closest to finishing were of a creature he’d read about from European folklore and another of a claw reaching out from under the bed. He wasn’t feeling either of them, though. Will wasn’t in the mind-frame to bring them to completion. That would take editing and decision making, which he knew, in his current state of mind, he would just end up second guessing everything. 

Despite how much he knew Ms. Murphy would hate it, he decided to start a new piece. ‘Twisted Up Inside,’ he thought. He began drawing a person whose insides could be seen. He grabbed the AP Biology book from Grace and began drawing the man’s innards twisted and entangled. He decided the materials he’d use- ink to start, and finished off with watercolor.

Formulating a new idea and seeing it develop began to put Will at ease.  
___________________________

Mike and Lucas had watched Will practically bolt out of history class, the words rushing from him, “I’m gonna miss lunch today- got a lot of work to catch up on. I’ll see you guys later!”

Lucas looked at Mike, “Is it just me, or is Will acting weird today?”

Mike shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess.” He could feel heat creeping to his face. He didn’t want to explain what had happened. He knew he had to eventually ask Lucas or Dustin to drive him to the next party, but he was hoping to keep his and Will’s former arrangement a secret. 

“Did something happen at the meeting?”

“The meeting…” The one that they hadn’t gone to yet. Their cover story. He couldn’t spin a tale about going to a meeting for gay and lesbian teens in the city. It would be too big and he’d get caught in the lie. “I really don’t feel like I should say anything about it.”

“Why not? Did you take a vow of secrecy or something?”

“It just… umm… It was a lot of personal information shared in a space that should be anonymous.”

Lucas was giving him some serious side-eye. “Okay... But did anything weird happen to Will there?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe someone gave him a phone number?” Mike shrugged, hoping to shake this conversation off. But as he was speaking, he saw Liz walking his way out of the corner of his eye. His mind flashed panic, ‘No!’ he thought.

“Hi, Mike.”

Mike was pretty certain he must have looked like a deer in headlights. This was not happening. Please go away, he wished. “Hi…” His voice sounded weak and he could feel Lucas’s eyes on him. He wanted to shrink. His brain searched for some way he could turn the conversation before she revealed anything. 

But his mind was blank and all he could do was listen in horror as she said, “Listen, about Saturday. I’m really sorry for the way I acted. I was a complete idiot, and stupid, and drunk. I’m really sorry.”

He could see Lucas tense, hear him suck in his breath. Mike just wanted Liz to leave, he nodded, “It’s fine.”

“It wasn’t. I know you’re just being nice, but I am not okay with it. I just want you to know I’m not normally like that.”

Mike closed his eyes and practically hissed, “I’m sure you’re not.” He could hear the sharp tone in his voice. He wished she hadn’t come up to him in front of Lucas. He wanted to handle the situation better, but he was so frustrated at her timing. “Maybe we could talk about it another time, Liz. I’ve got to get to class.”

She seemed to almost shrink, her face got red and as she looked from Mike to Lucas. She realized she’d done something wrong. She replied, “Oh, right… umm, okay. Tell Dan I said, hi. When you see him.” She promptly turned heal, embarrassed, and nearly on the edge of tears. She walked back into the throng of students in the hallway. Mike knew he’d feel worse about it later but, in that moment, frustration consumed him.

Lucas stood there, rage seething from his whole being, “Saturday? The same night as the meeting?”

“It was after,” Mike lied.

“Really? You felt up for a party after driving to Indianapolis and back?”

Mike hadn’t quite recovered from the annoyance of Liz’s reveal. He knew that Lucas was mad and that he had been found out, but Mike could be stubborn and defiant at the worst of times. 

“Yeah, actually.” Mike knew he was digging himself deeper, but like hell was he going to admit anything to Lucas in that moment. 

Lucas crossed his arms. “Okay. So who drove you?”

Now came the difficult part. He’d actually have to admit Will drove him, or lie again. “I dropped Will off, then I drove myself.” 

Lucas’s eyes widened, “So you drove drunk?!”

“I didn’t drink-”

“Bullshit! You can’t even be in the same room as your mom’s glass of wine without your eyes darting to it every few seconds. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Mike, because I have. You being in the same room as an open bottle and not drinking it, is like having a dog in the same room as a plate of bacon and expecting him not to eat it.” 

Mike’s knuckles were growing white as he clenched them tighter. 

Neither boy noticed how the hallway was starting to look in their direction. The crowd could sense a fight, like blood in the water. Max shoved through the horde.

Lucas continued, gritting his teeth, “So either you drove home drunk or someone else drove you.”

Mike took a step forward, now only inches away from Lucas, and opened his mouth but Max jumped in between them and grabbed both their shirts. “Guys, what the fuck are you doing?”

Neither one of them answered or broke eye contact. They were gearing up for a fight. Max turned to her boyfriend, “Lucas. Cool it. You’ve got half the school looking at you and a few months til graduation. Do you really want to risk that scholarship?” 

His eyes flicked over to her and she could tell the fire was out. The moment had passed for him. Reality clicked back into place. Even if he wanted to punch the daylights out of his friend, or whatever was left of him, he couldn’t at school without risking everything. 

Max turned to Mike, her hand gripping his shirt tight. He still had his haunches up. “All the assholes you never decked. Every time someone called him ‘Midnight’ and you did nothing. Aaron Suthers.” Mike looked at her, the fight waning at the mention of the name. “You punch him, then you better go back and punch all the rest of them. Because they actually deserved it.” 

A teacher shoved his way through the hall. “What’s going on?!”

Max turned, her hands dropping and voice immediately docile as she replied, “Just nerds getting into an argument about a stupid game.”

She turned to Lucas, who faked a smile, and stepped back, “Magic the Gathering.”

Mike stepped back. “Yeah. Just a stupid game.” He kept his gaze glued to the floor. 

The teacher wasn’t fooled. “Maybe you could explain that to the principal, then?”

Lucas was rigid. He was terrified of what would go on record or not. Anything at this point could tip the scales. 

The students were dispersing. Max put on her straight A student voice, pleading quietly, “Please, Mr. Peters. They were being hot-heads. Everything is riding on Lucas getting the Major Hutsten’s scholarship. I’m a peer mediator. I can set up a meeting with them to work this out. Please.”

Teachers had a soft spot for Max. Despite the rough edge she had with her peers, she put forth effort and cared about her work, which meant a lot when half the class was asleep. 

Mr. Peters looked around and said, sternly, “You got a good head on your shoulders, Maxine. If these boys continue with their nonsense, you’d best step back and let them face the consequences. But I’m gonna trust you will help them resolve this?” She nodded. Then, he looked at the two boys and continued, “And this won’t ever happen again?”

All three nodded. He gave one solid nod, his authority maintained. Once he left, Lucas turned to get back to class, but not before throwing Mike a look of disgust. What happened to his best friend? He didn’t know the person standing in his place, but he was reckless and selfish. Lucas couldn’t look at him anymore. He stormed away.

Max was about to go after him but she quickly turned back to Mike, her tone softer, “You should probably stay back from him for a bit. But we’re gonna talk about this, okay?” She squeezed his arm briefly and turned back to catch up with Lucas. 

The heat of his anger was still in his chest and under the surface of his skin, but Mike felt caged in his own body. The bell rung and he was nowhere near his class. He made himself scarce, ducking into the stairwell. He paced around under the stairs. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to kick everything. 

Lucas’s words were playing on repeat in his head. 

“You can’t even be in the same room as your mom’s glass of wine-”

He threw his backpack off and punched the cinderblock wall, immediately crumpling to the floor with the pain. 

That was stupid, he thought. He looked at his knuckles, that were shaking, scraped, and bloody. He hadn’t punched it that hard, all things considered. Instinct had slowed his hand down from a full force blow but there would be a bruise. And there was definitely pain. 

He slumped against the wall, clutching his hand. The pain broke up the thoughts that were churning in his head. Picturing the way Lucas had looked at him was buried by the question of whether or not he’d broken a bone. Max’s voice pleading for Lucas not to lose his scholarship was interrupted by him wondering what would happen if he didn’t get ice on it. The crippling fear that he had just lost his best friend was broken up by a plan for explaining to the nurse just how he’d hit his hand.


	23. The Stairwell

Lucas and Mike’s would-be fight wasn’t worthy of gossip for most. But for those that knew them word spread fast. Will was oblivious to it, though, isolated as he was in the art room. 

That was, until LeAnn nudged him, whispering, “Do you know that girl?”

 

Will looked up confused and his gaze followed to where she was pointing. There was a girl standing outside the door waving like crazy for his attention- Melissa. There was a sense of urgency.

Ms. Murphy was grading papers in her office, unaware of the new presence. Will quickly got up and bolted to her door, “Ms. Murphy. I need some photo references from my locker. Can I grab them real quick?”

She didn’t look up from her papers, “References for the new work of art you just started?”

Will nodded, “Yeah.”

She whipped off her speckled glasses, “Not to be confused with the two unfinished ones you have sitting in the drawer, right?”

“I’ll come in everyday during lunch!”

“You should have been doing that since September.”

He clasped his hands together, pleading, “It’s the new masterpiece. It really is. Please let me go.” 

She rested her hands on top of one another. “What you need, William, is more figure drawing in your portfolio.” 

Will didn’t want to have this conversation now. He needed to know why Melissa was outside. But he couldn’t let on the urgency or she’d suspect something. “I know, Ms. Murphy.”

“I teach at the community college. They’re having an open arts day for students looking to improve their portfolios. There will be a figure drawing session, which I highly advise you to go to if you want to get into any of those art colleges on your list.”

Will nodded, fervently. “I’ll be there, I promise!”

She raised an eyebrow and pointed to the door. She mouthed, “Go.”

Will said thanks and tried to keep his composure as he grabbed the hall pass and went out the door.

Melissa looked relieved, “Finally.”

“What’s wrong?” 

“I thought you could tell me.”

Will shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Mike nearly got in a fight with that friend of yours, Luke?”

“Lucas?!? What happened?”

“I have no idea but Liz is a fucking mess.”

Will looked completely confused, “Hold on. Start from the beginning. What does Liz have to do with anything?”

She proceeded to fill Will in on the little she knew: that Liz went to apologize to Mike, who was incredibly callus towards her, and then he and Lucas nearly got in a fight. 

Will looked horrified. Liz must have said brought up Saturday in front of him. Will dropped his head in his hands. This was a complete fucking disaster. 

He asked, “Do you know when this happened?”

“I think last period. Listen, Will, I have to go. It’s my lunch right now.”

“Thank you for telling me.” 

“No problem. Keep me in the loop, though, okay?”

Will nodded. But he had no intention of doing so. This was private, no matter how many people were talking about it. 

Will thought about where Mike could have possibly been. Mike never used to be someone who skipped class. But in the weeks leading up to El running away, he would miss them to stay with her and help her ride out the latest episode. And once she left, all bets were off. 

If he was anywhere, it would be in one of the stairwells and, if it was after History, it would be on the East side of the school. Will headed in that direction, hoping Mike was there.   
_____________________________________

Mike looked at his knuckles. The blood was starting to dry. But he couldn’t pick himself back up. He wanted to hide from everybody, from everything. 

But he heard the door open and a familiar voice whispered his name, “Mike?”

He tensed and held his breath. He didn’t want Will to see him. He couldn’t shake that look from Lucas. It brought everything to light- how everyone else saw his drinking. Will was too forgiving and everyone would see that he was taking advantage of that. 

Go away, Will, he thought. Even though he desperately, childishly, wanted him to stay. 

“Mike.” Will said with certainty. Despite the quiet, he knew Mike was there. 

Mike heard the door close and Will’s footsteps. He felt like he was going to break. Stop being so nice to me, he thought. He shut his eyes tight. He could feel Will’s presence, sense his shadow over him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Will, crouched down in front of him, worry cemented on his face. 

Will had silenced himself from overreacting to Mike’s bloody hand. He quieted the worry, knowing he needed to tread carefully. 

He held his hand out, “Can I see it?” 

Mike’s shoulders slumped. He tentatively outstretched the wounded hand. Will’s fingers were gentle as he examined it. 

Will asked, “Can you open your hand for me?” 

Mike did, wincing from the pain of it. 

Will looked at the bloody knuckles and the scraped skin. His hand had looked bad, but the bones were still in line. “I don’t think it’s broken but it’s gonna swell up bad if you don’t get some ice on it soon.” Will kept his voice level and tried to seem calmer than he was. 

Mike couldn’t find the words to say. He wanted more than anything to spill out everything: how much he hated himself, how sorry he was for drinking and lying, how much that look from Lucas hurt, how infuriated he was that all those words he’d said were true. But if he was burning bridges, he didn’t want Will on the same side as him. 

“You should get back to class, Will.” 

Will rebutted, “I will, as soon as we get you to the nurse.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Will could tell Mike was trying to shut him out. There were times when Will had done that to others, kept them at a distance to protect them. But Will wasn’t going to let him. He leaned his back against the wall next to Mike. 

Mike repeated, “I said I’m fine.” He was trying to keep his composure, but he felt like he was about to come undone. He just wanted Will to get back to class, to forget he’d seen him.

Will looked at Mike, sympathetically, “Now I get to say back to you: ‘No, you’re not.’”

Mike rested his head against the bricks, clutching his hand to his chest again. He shouldn’t have left it up to Will to put distance between them. Mike knew he was self-destructing and taking people down with him. He could have cost Lucas his scholarship, his future. What would he cost Will? 

Will asked, gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mike didn’t. Not at all. He wanted to hide; to drink himself into a stupor and forget about everything. But Will deserved to know. He had roped him into his lies and could have hurt Will’s friendship with the Party in the process. 

“Lucas knows,” he said. Will’s eyes grew wide and Mike quickly added, “Not about the kiss. I’m pretty sure he would have killed me. But he knows I lied about the meeting. He knows that I went to Dan’s and drank. And he thinks that I either drove home drunk or had you drive me.”

Will nodded, sighing. He had spent a good portion of the weekend thinking over how to discuss the whole situation with their friends, how to plan what to do moving forward regarding Mike’s drinking. He knew it was a conversation they had to have. He just hadn’t expected to do it on Monday.

“Well, he was going to find out one way or another. I’ll talk to him, see if I can smooth things over.” 

Mike shook his head. “You don’t get it. This isn’t something you can smooth over. You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what he said.”

Will asked, concerned, “What did he say?”

Mike shook his head. He couldn’t repeat the words. Not to Will. A part of him wanted Will to hear it, to see him the way Lucas had. But a part of him was terrified of seeing that same disappointment on Will’s face. Will had looked up to Mike in a lot of ways. Mike could remember feeling bolstered when Will would compliment him on a campaign or when he’d confide in him. He was so scared of losing that. 

He broke, “You should have seen his face.” He couldn’t look at Will anymore. He kept his eyes up at the ceiling, forcing the tears back. 

Will could hear the hurt in Mike’s voice. It killed him not to be able to hold him. But they were in school and, after what had happened this weekend and the thoughts he was having, he didn’t trust himself to touch Mike. He had to stop using that as the way he comforted him. Will knew they needed to distance themselves, in this small way at least. 

So, he tried to ease Mike with his words, “Lucas was just hurt. You-WE lied to him. We cut him, Dustin, and Max out.”

“He didn’t look at me like he was hurt. He looked like he was disgusted. Like he never wants to speak to me again.”

Will thought for a moment, trying to get his words out right. “I’m not gonna argue what the look was or wasn’t. Because I’m not a mind reader, and I wasn’t there. But I know Lucas and I know you. You’re both stubborn and, at times, well… kind of pig-headed. You guys have gotten into these big fights for as long as you’ve been friends. But you get over them. And more than likely, he’ll be pissed at you for another day or two, but he will be your friend again. Because that’s what you two have always done.”

“This isn’t like our other fights-”

Will interrupted, “Did you apologize?”

Mike’s train of thought derailed, “What?”

“Did you apologize to Lucas for lying to him?”

Mike’s jaw was agape at the realization. He hadn’t. He recoiled, “No.”

Will rolled his eyes. He had been dealing with this since first grade. “You obviously feel bad for lying but you did nothing to show you were remorseful?”

Mike sighed, rubbing his temples with his good hand. “No... I didn’t.”

“Then, don’t set anything in stone until you’ve apologized. I’ll talk to him. If you’re right, at worst, I’ve done nothing to change his mind. And, at best, he gives you another chance.”

Mike sighed, resigned. He didn’t think Lucas would forgive him, but he wasn’t going to fight Will on this. He couldn’t. 

Will nodded, “Now, let’s get you to the nurse.” Will positioned himself so that he could steady Mike, and get him on his feet. 

“I can get up, Will. I hurt my hand not my foot.” Mike resisted the urge to use Will for support. He’d burdened his friend enough. 

Will stood up, feeling a little embarrassed. He probably shouldn’t have offered. It revealed too much; that he wanted Mike to lean on him. He had to stop doing that, he thought. 

Mike and Will walked side by side down to the nurse’s office- the silence like a river between them. 

Mike felt conflicted. He didn't know how to act or what the right thing to do was. Should he try to distance himself? Protect Will from the destructive force he was becoming? Or… did Will need him still? The question tugged at him. 

Though Mike didn’t like to admit it, he had liked that Will needed him on some level. It had been a core part of their friendship. When Will was little and cried over the tauntings of kids at school or of his father at home, Mike would be the one to find him and bring the smile back to his face. When Will’s father left, Mike was there for him to sit in the uncertainty and to reassure: that even if his father never came back, he and everyone around him would be. Mike was that still, calm presence who listened when the episodes had Will second guessing his own sanity. Mike had always liked being there for Will. He thrived off of feeling needed. 

But did Will need him? Or did Mike just want him to?

Will interrupted Mike’s thoughts, “For the record, Mike, I know you and Lucas clash heads a lot, but he’s always been grateful for your relationship. You’re a good friend. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’ve been there through some of our worst. That doesn’t get erased because of one fight.” Mike saw that look that had been a staple between them for so long. He didn’t deserve it.

Mike’s stomach knotted. He couldn’t keep doing this to Will. He stopped and turned to Will. He had to make him understand. “I’m…” Not a good person, he thought. He stopped himself from saying it, though. It sounded pitiful and Will would just try to defend him. He restarted, “Why do you want to be around a drunk? You hate alcohol. It’s the whole reason your dad left. It’s why your mom split with Hopper. So, why are you sticking around? I’m…” He bowed his head down, “I damn near cost Lucas his scholarship. If we’d gotten into a fight, I could have ruined everything for him. It’s only a matter of time, Will. It’s only a matter of time before I fuck up this, too. Before I drag you-” 

Will couldn’t listen anymore, “Stop, Mike.”

“No, Will. You need to hear this. It doesn’t matter what a good friend I was before. I’m not one now.”

Will didn’t know what he could say. Mike was bearing his soul; the same dark stuff that Will always kept buried. What could he say to disperse the darkness?

“You’re not used to it.”

Mike blinked, uncertain of his meaning.

“You’re not used to being the one in need. The one who’s lost. You’ve always seemed to be so sure of yourself. So, as someone who has been there, let me give you some advice.” Will leaned in, and spoke firmly. He needed him to know, “Trust the people you’ve let into your life. Trust that Lucas, Dustin, Max, and me are still going to be there, even if you are at your worst, the same way you’ve been there for us.”

Mike’s throat felt tight. He realized that he needed Will… more than he wanted to admit. And if he really was afraid of hurting him, he’d need to open up with the others.

Suddenly, it all felt too heavy. He’d meant to put his head in his hands but instead his head landed on Will’s shoulder. 

“Fuck.” Mike felt like everything was about to come undone. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to start sobbing in the middle of the hallway. And he couldn’t believe himself- leaning on Will. Literally. He tried to keep himself together, wishing he knew what the hell was wrong with him. 

Will thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest. ‘So much for distance,’ he thought. His hand hovered above Mike’s head for a moment. Was he allowed to touch him? Was it selfish to? But he decided doing nothing would be awkward at best and, at worst, cold. He carefully rested his hand on the back of Mike’s neck. Keeping his hand away from Mike’s hair, lest his fingers roam through those locks again.

Mike felt the small gesture, and the waves of anxiety calmed for a moment. He felt like he could breathe again. He missed being held so desperately. 

Everyone used to say that he and El were sickeningly cute. They would always be in each other’s space- holding hands in the hallway, leaning on each other, wrapping her up in his arms. They were inseparable. When he was frustrated, or stressed, all she’s have to do is hold him and suddenly things seemed more bearable. Mike had forgotten how to calm himself. He didn't know how to be alone. 

Mike’s neck felt so warm and the skin soft under Will’s hand. Will wished he didn’t enjoy this contact so much. 

His thoughts ordered, ‘Keep track of the seconds.’ It was something he had done for years. 

‘One.’ An old habit picked up out of shame. 

‘Two.’ Counting the seconds of contact shared between friends. 

‘Three.’ What was allowed and what was too intimate. And, in the case of Mike, too revealing. 

He moved his hand from Mike’s neck to his shoulder and squeezed. 

Mike lifted his head. The contact had given him momentary reprieve, but it was now also accompanied by the guilt. He was scared of relying on Will too much and ashamed of how frequently he seemed to be crossing the line these days. He didn’t even really know where the lines were drawn now.

Will comforted, “Don’t worry about everything all at once. We’ll talk to the guys and figure it out. Just take it a few moments at a time. Let’s first get your hand taken care of. We’ll sort the rest out a little bit at a time.”

Mike nodded, absentmindedly. He knew he was leaning on Will too much. He needed to stop, to distance himself. He promised himself he would. He’d rely on the others or learn how to rely on himself. But for today, he’d let himself lean. He needed Will to get him through the day.


	24. The Sketch

When they walked into the nurse’s office, her eyes widened at the sight of Mike’s hand. 

But she retained a calm tone, “Have a seat, Mr…?”

“Wheeler,” he finished. 

“Wheeler.” She repeated. Then she turned to Will, “Would you do me a favor, sweetie, and sign him in?” She turned and gestured to the chair. “Have a seat, Mr. Wheeler.” 

He sat down on the chair next to her desk, feeling like a child. 

She examined his hand, carefully, and asked, “Now, can you tell me what happened?”

Mike had come up with a story, “I fell down the stairs while holding my books and couldn’t catch myself. ”

She stopped and looked directly at him, not buying it. “I worked in the ER for three years and have been a nurse for 15. Please don’t insult my intelligence by lying again.”

Mike looked away. “...I punched a wall.”

She nodded, “Thought so.” She rolled her chair around, grabbing some gauze, rubbing alcohol, and an ice pack. She looked at Will, “You can stay and walk him back to class. I’ll be finished up in a minute.” Then, she set to work about his hand. “The good news is it’s not broken. But the swelling’s going to make it pretty tender for the next few days.”

She put alcohol on the gauze and applied it. The smell reminded Mike of the Everclear from Saturday. He hated himself for enjoying the scent. 

The nurse swabbed off the old blood and Mike winced. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something but stopped herself. “Do you want to see the counsellor?”

He immediately shook his head, “No. No, I’m fine. I was just frustrated.”

Her round eyes seemed unsure, looking him over, “My mother always used to say, boys that punch walls… become men that punch women.”

Mike was incensed at the accusation, “I’d never do that.”

She shrugged, “You seen like a nice kid. But no one just decides to be an abuser. It starts with small things like this… punching walls, breaking things. You keep relying on that to release your anger… it’s only a matter of time before someone is on the other end of your fist, darling.”

Mike looked away as she wrapped up his hand snuggly and gave him an ice pack. 

“It’s just something to think about, okay?” She said. He nodded.

When they walked out of the nurse’s office, Mike seemed uneasy. He asked Will, “Do you think what she said is true?”

Will bit his lip, “ Well… I don’t know… but, it kind of makes sense. When things were getting bad between my mom and dad… she put away the good china after he broke a bowl during one of their fights. Stuff just escalated from there.”

Mike was quiet for a moment, “Do you think I’ll end up like that?”

Will said with certainty, “No.” He caught Mike’s gaze, “I don’t think it’d be possible for you to do that without giving up everything that makes you who you are. And none of us would ever let you get that far.”

Mike nodded and they walked in silence. 

Will didn’t want to let Mike sit with his thoughts, “So, where are you going for lunch?”

Mike sighed, normally, he and the rest of the party would go to the AV room for lunch but he wanted to give Lucas some space. He wasn’t ready to face him yet. And with the whole mess with Liz, he wasn’t sure if he could sit with Dan and the others either. 

“I’ll probably just go to the courtyard or something.”

“You could come to the art room,” Will offered.

“I haven’t had art class since freshman year. I doubt Ms. Murphy would be cool with it.”

Will shrugged, “She’s actually pretty laid back, once you get to know her.”

Mike hesitated, “You don’t mind?”

Will shook his head. “Of course not. That’s why I offered.”

They got to the art room door just as the bell rung and, suddenly, Will knew he was in trouble. He’d missed a lot more of class than he thought. 

Ms. Murphy turned, her voice thick with sarcasm, “Oh, look! The prodigal son has returned and with a friend.” 

People started clearing out and Will cautiously stepped forward, “Ms. Murphy-”

The sarcasm was still strong as she asked, “Why, where’s your photo reference?”

“I- I was going to my locker but-”

“But you decided to skip class instead?”

Mike cut in, “It’s my fault. Will was going to his locker but he found me and took me to the nurse.”

“Because, you obviously couldn’t get there yourself.” She turned to Will, her tone serious, “In my office. Now, William.”

Will bowed his head and followed her. Mike watched Will walk in the office, feeling insanely guilty, worried he was dragging Will down, too.

Ms. Murphy promptly closed the door and looked furious. She spoke low, “I can see your friend is in a crisis. That is the only possible reason I can come up with why you would have left class for fifteen minutes.”

Will didn’t look at her, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m having a hard time believing it was a coincidence that you asked to go to your locker and just happened to find him.”

Will’s ears burned. “It wasn’t.”

Ms. Murphy closed her eyes and breathed. He was honest, at least, and that meant everything to her.

Will asked, “Are you going to write me up?” 

She looked at the redness in his cheeks and his whole being, and said sternly, “You would get an internal suspension for cutting class, you know.”

Will nodded.

“Tell me- do you think the suspension room will have the supplies you need to finish all your remaining projects?”

Will shook his head. He was going to be even further behind now.

“Meaning you would miss even more class.” She said calmly, “So, no. I will not be officially writing you up.” 

Will looked up surprised, his mouth agape.

“But!” She warned, “Starting tomorrow, you will be coming here everyday after school for the rest of the week! And, I swear, if you miss another minute of art class I won’t hesitate to write you up, young man!”

Will nodded fervently. “I will. I mean, I’ll be here. I promise! Thank you, Ms. Murphy!”

She opened the door back up and marched over to Mike. “As for you, Mr. Wheeler, do you have a reasonable explanation for why you are in here?”

“I was going to come in for lu-”

“A REASONABLE explanation.”

Mike didn’t trust himself not to sass back so he kept himself silent.

She lead his answer, “Perhaps you’re helping your friend, William, get his figure drawing done?”

Mike nodded, completely confused.

Ms. Murphy turned toward Will and said, “He’s staying because…” she waited for him to finished.

“Because he’s… uhh…”

She gestured her hand as if it were a wheel turning, “Perhaps your model? For the figure drawing you need to start?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s my model… for figure drawing.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in exhaustion. “You kids are going to put me in an early grave or early retirement, I swear.”

Pat, who was still at the back of the class with LeAnn and Gracie, called out, “It’s because you love us!”

“Patricia, mind your business and go get your lunch!”

Pat smirked over at LeAnn, “It’s your turn today.” She handed out a wad of dollar bills from her purse. “Just as many fries as they’ll let you take. And anything else that looks edible.”

LeAnn rolled her eyes, saying as she left, “You can be such a queen sometimes.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Pat replied. 

The boys came over and sat down. Gracie moved her books, blushing, as she made way for Mike to sit.

Mike blinked, stunned, “So… she’s letting me eat here? I don’t get it. I thought you got written up.”

Will sat down, looking like he’d just seen his life flash before his eyes, “No, thankfully. She gave me an unofficial detention for the remainder of the week. I have to come here after school starting tomorrow.”

Mike whispered, “She was not that nice when I had her.”

Pat smirked, “She’s got a soft spot for her AP Art kids. We’re just special like that.” She leaned towards Will and whispered, “But you should probably start drawing because she’s staring daggers at you right now.” 

Will resisted the urge to look. He quickly got the large pad of newsprint and some charcoal pencils out. He whispered to Mike, “Sorry that you got roped into being my model.” 

Mike shrugged, “I don’t mind. I’m sorry I got you in trouble. Umm… how should I… do I need to sit somewhere?” He looked around, his cheeks burned a little.

Will quickly shook his head, also blushing a little. “No, it’s your lunch, we’re gonna be eating. Just sitting here is fine. I’m just gonna draw you from here.” 

Mike readjusted, crossing his arms and leaning on the table. “Is this okay?” 

Pat said, “You’re gonna be holding the pose for a bit. Do something comfortable.” 

Gracie bashfully suggested, “Maybe just rest your head in your hand. It’s comfortable but still offers a kind of wistful look.”

Mike looked to Will, who nodded, trying his best not to think about the daydream he’d had earlier, when Mike had been doing that same pose. “That’d be good. Yeah.” 

Mike readjusted again, resting his chin in the palm of his good hand, and Will began drawing. 

Gracie asked, shyly, “Would you mind if I drew you too?”

Pat raised an eyebrow. “Jeez, keep it in your pants, Gracie.”

She whipped her head around, infuriated, “You are so vulgar!”

Mike hid his face with his hand, embarrassed.

Will, who had just gotten the overall shapes sketched, exasperated, “Mike, don’t move. And Pat, knock it off!”

Pat shrugged, smirking. Her brand of chaos wasn’t always sensitive to the feelings of others.

Mike fixed his position and tried to keep the red from his cheeks. “It’s fine, Grace.” 

She didn’t look up and just started sketching, her own cheeks pink. Mike let his mind wander. The admiration from other girls still felt weird to him. Only a few years ago people had been calling him Frog-face. But in junior year, they’d had hosted a lip sync to fundraise for the AV Club. He had donned a white blazer and guitar for his part in lip syncing “We Built this City” with the others. And somehow, it had resulted in a few girls ogling him in the hallway. 

Though, they would quickly avert their eyes if El was with him. She had earned the nickname, Witch, in her time at high school for the way things happened to people who crossed her or her friends, particularly broken noses.

Mike forced thoughts of El away. He was still a little on edge and didn’t trust himself to hold it together. He, instead, tried to get a glance at Will’s work. He couldn’t see it without moving, though, so he settled for watching Will draw. 

There was an intensity about Will when he was creating something, as if he was channeling a part of himself onto the paper. It had been a while since Will had drawn him. It hadn’t been since they were sophomores. That year for everyone’s birthday, Will had given them drawings of themselves as their DnD characters. Needless to say, he had gotten worlds better since the small drawings tucked in Mike’s Dungeon Master folder.

Mike had hung the picture up on his wall. Will seemed so embarrassed at the time. “You didn’t have to frame it…” But Mike could tell he was thrilled.

He’d told him, “It’s a Will Byers original. Of course I have to frame it. It’s gonna be worth thousands when you’re designing the next Predator and living it it up in Beverly Hills.”

When it came to Will’s art, Mike enjoyed making him blush. Will had always been an incredible soundboard for his story ideas and he loved returning the favor for Will’s own creative process.

Mike continued to watch him, trying to determine what Will was drawing from his gaze alone. From what he could tell, he guessed that he was working on his hands. 

A part of Will was thrilled to be drawing Mike again. It was something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in a while. There was a time when Will would sneak drawings of Mike in small parts of his notebook. Terrified of someone seeing, he would limit it to certain parts. Focusing on the curl of his hair, or a pattern of freckles, the crinkles in his shirt. If the sketches were ever found, no one would be the wiser. But after coming out to Mike, he stopped himself. It was too big a risk. Mike would know. 

In sophomore year, Mike had been so enthralled when he’d drawn Dustin as his original Bard character. Will broke his self-adhered rule to draw Mike as the Paladin, though he stuck to the safety of using photos as reference. But getting to sketch Mike as he sat there as his model was such a treasure. He could let his eyes wander and soak in all of him. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he moved the charcoal across the paper, curving around Mike’s figure. Will shaded in the area underneath Mike’s fingers and looked over the drawing. He was pretty proud. It looked a lot like him, but he decided the hair needed a bit more detail.

Will lifted up his eyes to look at Mike’s hair and saw Mike hardcore staring at him. Mike could feel his face becoming beet-red. He averted his eyes, unsure if he had made it more awkward. If felt so strange to just have Will look at him, study him. Strange- because he sort of enjoyed it.

Will suddenly felt flustered and brought his gaze down immediately. He thought, ‘Why is he staring at me?’ His mind seemed for a moment to hover around a suggestion that he refused to let himself think. An old suggestion that used to haunt him back before he had confessed to Mike. One that tried to make every small kindness into an act of love. He mentally scolded himself. ‘This is what I get for skipping class.’ He tried to calm himself down. Really, where else was Mike supposed to look? He was stuck there until Will and Gracie were finished drawing him. ‘Anyway,’ he thought, ‘Mike watches me draw all the time... it just feels a little weird because I’m drawing him.’ He silenced the suggestion again.

Thankfully, LeAnn interrupted the awkwardness with fries, snacks, and an absurd amount of dips. When she set the tray down, Mike looked at the number of condiments. “What are those for?”

LeAnn answered, in a matter-of-fact tone, “For the fries, of course!” 

Mike exclaimed, “You brought ranch dressing!”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Mike grimaced and held up a small container of maple syrup, “Is this for the fries too?”

Pat looked and him in mock horror, “Have you never dipped your fries in a Frosty?”

LeAnn added, “He’s probably one of those people that doesn’t let his hash browns touch the syrup on his plate. Truly a shame.”

Pat added, “We don’t need your toxic social food norms here.”

Will bit his lip, shaking with silent laughter and relieved at the distraction. 

Pat turned to Will, “For bringing such a monster here, Will, you must pay with your life.” She proceeded to pretend to bite his arm. 

Will played along, “No! Not my drawing arm!” He collapsed on the table. Mike raised his eyebrows, a grin spread across his face. Will caught the look and found himself smiling. 

Pat continued, “Yes. Your drawing arm is useless, so you might as well give up and let us eat you.”

Will shrugged, “Eh. Okay.”

Mike chimed in, “Come on! You’re not seriously going to let these zombies eat you?”

LeAnn corrected, “Zombies?! Excuse you. We are starving artists.”

Gracie added, “That have resorted to cannibalism.”

Pat said, “We aren’t heathens. We don’t eat the brains, only eat the flesh.”

Gracie jumped in, “And occasionally suck out the bone marrow.”

Pat turned, legitimately disgusted, “Gracie! Too far!”

“What?” She exclaimed. “Cannibalism is fine but I say bone marrow-”

LeAnn shuddered, “SUCKING out the bone marrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “Listen, if you aren’t willing to eat all the parts of him, you’re just being wasteful.”

Will sat up, laughing, and grabbed some fries. He caught Mike looking over at him and Will grinned, sheepishly. 

Will used to be so nervous about being with both friend groups at the same time. He acted different around his art friends. He was sillier and embraced the weirdness that they surrounded him with. He had worried what the party would say. He was always the quiet one in the group, and he’d known them for so long, he didn’t want them to think of him differently. 

But in small ways, he let them see this other, more playful part of himself. It didn’t change what they thought of him or how they treated him. Sometimes Will just wanted to kick himself for how much he worried over the same problem. His friends had accepted him being gay. They had accepted the weirdness he displayed with his art friends. Why couldn’t he just learn to trust that they wouldn’t judge him? 

Mike smiled and grabbed some fries too. He liked getting to see this other side of Will. It was like these girls pulled him out of his shell. Not that he was in a shell around the Party but it was different. He was happy that Will had let him into this small other world. 

Sometimes Mike worried about how Will would do, being on his own in California. Out loud, Mike was nothing but supportive of Will- going to an art college there and fulfilling his dream of becoming an artist. Will deserved all that and more. Still, Mike couldn’t help but worry. Dustin was the only one going to college anywhere close to Will. And it was still at least a 5 hour drive away. Who would be there for Will, to wait out the bad days with him? Was he going to be able to make friends? What kind of support system would he have? 

But seeing Will laugh and open up like this, it relieved his worries. At least a little bit.

Mike dipped one of the fries in the ranch dip, just to see. It was a strange combination, but not terrible. He turned his attention back at the sketchpad, which Will had set at the other table, “Can I see how it turned out?”

Will looked over his shoulder at the drawing. A moment ago it had been pretty good, but once he looked at it with new eyes, he was horrified. Something about the pose or about the delicacy of the lines made Will feel pure terror. It revealed everything. Even though Mike knew that he still liked him, if he saw it, he might realize just how much. He might be completely weirded out. 

He shook his head. “No. It’s not done.”

“But I’ve moved. You won’t be able to finish it.”

“Then, I guess you’ll never see it.” He opened up a Coke that LeAnn has put in front of him and sipped it. 

Mike smirked, standing up as if he was reaching over to get fries. He teased, “Unless I just look at it now.” He made a break for the sketchbook. 

“Nonononono!!” Will tried to get to the table first but Mike beat him there. Will quickly insulted his artwork, hoping to distance himself from whatever Mike was about to see. “Please, don’t! It’s awful!”

Mike raised his eyebrow, “I doubt it.” He picked it up and was stunned. 

Will hadn’t just managed to draw Mike’s likeness. He had somehow also captured his thoughts, his whole being in this moment. He could see the contemplation and worry drawn on his brow, the weight on his shoulders. Will had always been an observant person, but his artwork had come to a point of communicating that insightfulness. Mike was looking at himself but through Will’s eyes.

Mike realized how quiet he’d been and spoke to reassure Will, who was biting his lip, embarrassed. He couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice, “Never call your artwork awful, Will. You’re amazing.” He realized what he’d said and quickly included, “It’s amazing.”

Will blinked. He wanted to etch those words into his heart forever. ‘You’re amazing.’ Hearing those words from Mike’s lips meant the world to him. He’d said them so openly. It was an honest moment of admiration and Will wanted to soak it in. There had been a time when Mike would litter Will with compliments, because they were little and spoke their minds, without the fear of seeming too intimate. Will would go out of his way to do things for Mike just so he could hear his praise. 

Will smiled, “Thanks.” He looked away. He didn’t know what else to say. He felt speechless and suddenly embarrassed that he was in front of the girls. He wanted to be alone for that compliment. He wanted it to be private. He could feel their eyes looking and their knowing smiles at the whole exchange and he knew they would tease him later. But he just let the words repeat in his head, keeping them like a recording, and saving them for the moments when he would need them the most.


	25. The Track

The bell let out a shrill ring. The art room had cleared out, but Mike was still slowly gathering his supplies. He didn’t want lunch to be over. He didn’t want to have to face the rest of the day. The art room had seemed like a safe haven for those brief forty minutes. But when Mike looked up, Will was waiting for him. He couldn’t make him late. He picked up his things and walked out with Will.

Will asked, “You okay?”

He nodded, “I just wish lunch had lasted longer.”

Will smiled sadly, “Yeah...” 

Mike hesitated, “You see Lucas next period, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” He could see the weight return to Mike’s shoulders. It hurt. He wished he could stay by his side at least a little while longer.

Mike asked, “Could you tell him I’m sorry?”

Will replied honestly, “I could, but it will mean more coming from you.”

Mike nodded, “I will. Or, I’ll try to.” He was trying with every fiber of his being not to cringe or to think about what had happened between him and Lucas. He knew if he let the scene replay in his head, he would crumple. 

But Will’s voice reassured him, “It’s okay, Mike. We’ll work it out. Just take the rest of the day a few minutes at a time.”

Mike nodded again and forced a small smile, but Will could tell. Mike knew he could. Will just had a way of seeing right through him. 

They came to a ‘T’ in the hallway and would have to go in separate directions to get to their next classes. 

“Thanks for lunch, Will. And...” he shrugged, “For everything.”

He replied, “Anytime,” hoping Mike knew how much he meant it.

Mike tried to smile and headed to his class. There was an impulse in Mike that he had to fight back. He didn’t realize how much he used to lean on El. When he’d feel overwhelmed, he would just hold her and the world no longer felt like it was falling apart. He’d felt that same longing just then. He wanted to be held. He wanted to hold someone. The emptiness ate at him. 

He just needed to get through this day, he told himself. Through this minute. He breathed and focused on that. He tried focusing on the next class. What had they learned about in Trigonometry last week? He reviewed formulas, and tried to practice problems in his head but his thoughts kept wondering to Will and El and he’d have to restart the equation again.

________________________________________

Will watched after Mike, worrying. He recited his own advice in his head. He needed to get through this next class, and the way to do that was to try to talk to Lucas about what had happened. He started trying to figure out what he would say.

But his thoughts were interrupted by Max, who was making her way towards him. “Will!” She turned heel, maneuvered around the traffic in the hallway to walk beside him. 

“Hey, Max.”

She looked concerned. “Did you hear?” 

“Yeah… I just spent lunch with Mike.”

She raised an eyebrow, “So… has he cooled off, yet?”

“He wasn’t angry when I saw him. He was just… He feels horrible.” 

Her expression furrowed, bitterly, “He should.” She closed her eyes and breathed, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to. She had just spent most of lunch listening to Lucas vent and she didn’t feel much like making peace with Mike. But that wasn’t Will’s fault. He and Dustin were more often than not caught in the middle and it wasn’t fair to them. She adjusted her tone, “I’m glad he’s calmed down, at least. I just want to give you a head’s up about Lucas.”

Will looked concerned.

She continued, “He’s pretty pissed off at you, too. The fact that you lied to him. That you kept this from all of us. Mike has been on a down spiral and the lies coming from him make sense, but with you… this whole thing… he’s really fucking hurt, Will.”

The guilt felt like a punch in the gut. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

She held up her hand. “I’m fine, Will. I get why you didn’t say anything… There were things that El and I talked about that…” She shook her head, steadied her lip, not trusting herself. “Nevermind. I get it. Just… be careful with Lucas. He’s really on edge. I don’t want him blowing up at you, too. Losing one friend is hard enough.”

Will’s stomach twisted. What did she mean by ‘losing a friend’? Lucas wasn’t thinking about cutting Mike out, was he? 

Max continued, “I’ve got to get to class. I’ll see you in 8th, Will.”

Will waved, absentmindedly. It was just a particularly bad fight, he told himself. He could turn this around. 

The bell rang as he got to the gym doors. He saw Lucas waiting outside by the lockers and Will sighed, relieved. Lucas had his arms crossed. He was obviously pissed off, but he still cared enough to wait. 

They could work through the rest. 

It had become a rule in the group- Will was never to go into the locker rooms alone. Despite the fact that Aaron Suthers went to night school now, one of the party always waited by the doors to make certain Will got in safe. 

Will tried to feign normalcy, “Hey, Lucas.” 

Lucas flicked his eyes over, playing it cool. “Hey, Will.” He could hear the anger being held back. 

Will followed Lucas inside. They went to their lockers. Will’s was in the corner and Lucas positioned himself as a buffer between him and the rest of their class. Will had learned to keep his head down in PE, especially in the locker rooms. It seemed like even the friendlier of the guys in their grade were awkward in the locker room. He had tried, with no avail, to get changed in the bathroom stall instead, but had gotten chewed out by the gym teacher for it. 

So, the guys in the party fulfilled the role as his barrier. Hoping that the physical separation would be enough to protect Will from the guys who were waiting for Will’s eyes to wander- who were waiting for any excuse to attack. 

Will put on his clothes as quickly as he could. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Lucas’s anger seething into his every motion. 

Will just wanted to get out of the locker room. They could talk once they were on the track, he thought. 

Lucas said cooly, “How’d your weekend go?”

Will’s shoulders sagged. Lucas wasn’t going to wait. Will tried to delay the inevitable. “It was okay. Yours?” 

“Fine. How was the meeting?” Lucas was staring at him straight on. 

Will finished putting his shirt on, slowly. He whispered, “Can we not do this here?”

“Not do what? I’m just asking you about your weekend. Simple conversation. Or it can be as simple as you want it to be. All you have to do is keep lying and everything is fine.” Lucas slammed his locker shut and turned the combo. 

He started walking away and heard someone chide, “Oooh. Lover’s quarrel?” 

Will heard the comment and fear coursed through him. ‘Please don’t leave,’ he thought. 

Lucas looked back at Will trying desperately to hurry up and get his gym shorts on. No matter how mad he was, how much he wanted to storm off, he couldn’t. Because it would mean leaving Will to the wolves. He slammed his back onto the locker harder than he meant to. He would wait. 

Will threw on his shoes, relieved that Lucas hadn’t actually left and caught up. They walked out into the gym and sat down on the lines of the gym, waiting for their name to be called during attendance. 

Will’s cheeks burned and his leg bounced as he waited for the teacher to dismiss them to the track. Their gym teacher blew the whistle and lead them out the door. Will ran up alongside Lucas, who was staring straight ahead. 

“Lucas, please. Wait.”

“I can’t believe you.” He kept walking, refusing to look at him. “Mike is going off the deep end. He’s lying, he’s drinking. Losing El is changing him. I hate it and I can’t stand him like this. But I can at least see why he’s doing it. But you? There’s no reason. There’s no excuse and I don’t want to hear one from you.”

Will’s voice trembled. He wasn’t used to being at the end of Lucas’s wrath. “I don’t have an excuse, Lucas. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“But you didn’t.” Lucas shook his head. He wasn’t used to arguing with him. Will gave in and agreed so easily. Mike fought back. Max and Dustin fought back. But not Will. He just agreed and Lucas didn’t know how to handle it. He stopped and turned to him. “How long have you been lying, huh? How many parties did you drive him to?”

Will looked at Lucas squarely. “One. But I drove him back from two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That Friday that you called me. You said something didn’t feel right. I got a call from Angela that night to pick up Mike. He was one of her friend’s parties. Drunk and alone.” 

“Angela, like your ex, Angela?” 

Will nodded. 

They heard a whistle blow and saw their gym teacher pointing at them and gesturing to the track. They jogged to the track and started running on the straightaway. Lucas was ahead of Will but when he got to the curve, he slowed down. Will caught his breath as he ran to Lucas’s side.   
Lucas asked, “How bad was he?”

Will replied, a little breathless, “Pretty wasted.”

“As wasted as that other party?”

“Not that bad. But he… he just… He’s not himself.”

“He isn’t himself. He’s an addict.” 

Will grimaced at the word, “He’s not an addict.”

“You don’t think so?” Lucas got to the straightaway and started sprinting again. Will took a deep breath and chased after him. Will thought he was in pretty good physical condition, until he ran next to Lucas, who was on the track team. 

He caught up to him again and wheezed. Damn it, he thought. Lucas was trying to kill him.

He looked up and could see Lucas was trying to bite back a smile. “You know, for someone that had literal demons chasing him, you’d think you would be better at running.”

“You’re sadistic.” 

“You’re out of shape.” There was a smirk and Will wanted more than anything for this conversation to be over and things to go back to normal. But that was impossible. The only way things could go back was to have this conversation. 

“He isn’t an alcoholic… yet.”

“But you see the writing on the wall, don’t you Will? You lived with one. You HAVE to see it. You can deny it all you want, but I, for one, and not sticking around for it.”

Anger simmered in the bottom of his stomach. Lucas was seriously thinking about cutting ties with Mike. 

He spoke firmly, “I lived with two, Lucas. I don’t remember my dad before he was a drunk, but I remember Hopper. My mom thought that the best thing she could do was to break up with him. That if she left him, he would realize what he was doing, and he’d sober up. But it didn’t stop him. He kept drinking and sinking into that sadness.”

“Then, you get it. Nothing is going to stop him.”

“No. He isn’t there, yet, Lucas. We can still help him.”

“To what? Drive him to get his next fix? Sounds like a solid plan.” He said sarcastically. Then, he added, “You’re enabling him, Will. He’s using you and you’re enabling him.” Lucas wasn’t at the starting line yet, but he took off. Will charged after this time, letting his anger pound his shoes against the ground. 

When he caught up, Lucas seemed surprised at how little distance there was between the two of them. 

Will panted, “And your… plan is… so much... better!” He tried to catch his breath. He started again, “Stop being his friend and he’ll… get his act together. Like some kind of stand off.” He put his hands behind his head trying to get more air in his lungs. 

“I don’t care what he does. But I know I’m not going to be around to see what he becomes.”

“Now who’s lying? You don’t care? That’s bullshit. He’s your best friend. He’s our best friend. And you have plenty of time to leave him to his own devices. In August, when you and Max jet off to Chicago and Dustin and I are out in California, we can let him self-destruct. We can abandon him then. But he’s been our friend for over half our lives and he at least deserves six more goddamn months!” 

Lucas could hear Will’s voice crack. Lucas could hear it and he knew he had hit a nerve. He sighed and walked beside him. They didn’t say anything. When the next straightaway came, Lucas jogged alongside Will, keeping pace with him. Mike had been his first friend in the neighborhood. After everything, he couldn’t abandon his friend and Will knew it. But…

“I hate watching this. Seeing what he is becoming, Will. He’s turning into someone I barely recognize…” He shrugged, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either. But I’m going to stay by him. Drive him to these things, keep him watered and fed so he doesn’t get too drunk.”

Lucas shook his head.

Will offered, “He’s still in there, Lucas. He hates himself for what happened between you two. I know everything that’s happened makes it seem like he’s changed but… Mike called around and he found me that place that has the meetings.”

“The one that you didn’t go to.”

“There wasn’t a meeting last weekend. But there is one on Saturday. He’s taking me to it. I have no idea how he found it. It’s not like those things are listed in the phone book or on the church bulletin board.” He gave a hollow laugh. “But he wanted me to find people… like me… to be able to have people to talk to. That’s our Mike.” 

Lucas sighed. “He might still be in there. But I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to look at him or talk to him like this. He’s burying himself in the bottle and... how am I supposed to be around him?”

“Just… show him half the patience you’ve shown with me.”

Lucas looked at him, confused. “When have you ever tested my patience? Other than now?” 

“When I have those bad days and I’m just… beyond reclusive. Or when I was cutting myself-”

“That’s different...”

“Not really. Not to me. It’s just as self-destructive. He blames himself for El leaving. He gets obliterated so that he can forget that for a few minutes. All we can do is stay by him. Show him we’re here and give him the tools to dig himself out of this hole. While we’re around anyway...”

Lucas sighed. “I need time, Will.”

“I know. Just… don’t write him off, yet, please.”

They didn’t talk for the next lap. Will could see that the anger was gone from Lucas’s stride. Though, he was still racing at the straightaways. Will did his best to keep up. 

Lucas twisted his mouth, trying not to smile as he watched Will. He couldn’t stay mad at him. “Being pissed at you is exhausting.”

“You’re exhausted? Who is dragging ass trying to catch up with you?”

Lucas smirked. “How’s everything turning out with CalArts?”

“I still need to submit my portfolio to them.”

“Deadline coming up?”

“Next month. I’ve got all the paperwork done and most of the artwork. Just a few more things and then I’ll be set.” 

“”Any other schools you applying to?”

“Only every art college on the West Coast.”

“Oh. Is that all?”

Will smirked, “How about you?”

“Looking into the Navy Reserves while I’m getting my engineering degree. Probably a few years overseas after that. I’m pretty much set for that scholarship. I’m looking at a few other colleges, but it’s going to be in Chicago without a doubt.” 

Will was insanely thankful for Lucas and for their friendship. He hated that they would be going to college so far away. He’d miss him like crazy.


	26. The Dissection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. The holidays weren't as laid back as I hoped. I didn't want to post this chapter without it resolution so... double chapter update!

Mike stared at the door, knots in his stomach as he waited for his friends to walk in. How was he supposed to act around Lucas, now? Should he go right up and apologize? Or should he wait for Lucas to approach him? He wished he could have a moment to talk to Will about it, but he and Lucas would be coming from the same class, so there was no chance of that. 

Dustin walked in. When he saw Mike, he hesitated, looked over his shoulder, and quickly ducked over to Mike’s desk. 

He whispered, “What the hell happened?”

Mike sighed. “I was an idiot.”

Dustin raised his eyebrows. “No kidding. What were you two thinking?”

“He was mad and everything he was saying… It was all true but… I just...”

Dustin interrupted, “I’m not talking about you and Lucas. I’m talking about you and Will! You both lied to us. It’s… beyond lying. You were sneaking around to drink, with Will as your personal chauffeur.” At this last part there was a bitterness in his voice, an edge that was surprising coming from Dustin. He’d practically spat Will’s name. 

Mike rushed to defend him, “Listen, don’t be mad at Will. He was only doing it because I asked him.”

Dustin seemed unconvinced and muttered, “I’m sure he was.”

Mike was about to shoot something back when he saw Max come in. Dustin sat up. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered and dodged to the back of class. 

Max made eye contact with Mike and the kind tone she had before seemed to have dissipated in the few classes between the would-be fight and AP Biology. Mike sunk in his seat. They were picking sides now, weren’t they? 

Lucas walked in with Will and they seemed to be talking in hushed tones. Lucas and Mike made eye contact. Mike did his best to look as apologetic as he felt but Lucas pressed his lips together like he had to suppress a scowl. His eyes flicked away and he walked to the back with Dustin and Max. Will looked sympathetically at Mike and sat down next to him. 

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hey. Did you talk to Lucas?” 

Will nodded.

“How is he?”

Will searched for a word that was both honest and comforting. “Well, he’s calmed down a bit.”

Mike side-eyed him.

“He has.” Will shrugged. 

“Enough for me to talk to him?”

Suddenly Will seemed unsure. “I think it’s worth a shot at least.” 

The bell rang and their biology teacher, Ms. Hemlock, struggled to get through the door, dragging a cart full of boxes in the room. She leaned an arm on the top box and said in a cheerful voice, “Okay! Who’s ready to dissect cow eyes?”  
__________________________________________

They got sorted into pairs according to their table groups. As luck would have it, Mike and Max got sorted together. Mike was equal parts relieved and disappointed. A part of him had been hoping he’d be paired with Lucas. At least then, they would have been forced to talk. 

Max laid out the materials and handed him a pair of goggles. 

Mike asked, “You got the diagram?”

Max nodded, “Yeah. You wanna start cutting or should I?”

Mike could hear the hint of insecurity in her voice. Max wasn’t always the most delicate with her hands. At one point she had botched the group’s dissection. She had felt horrible and, although no one blames her, she was delegated to do other things for these assignments. 

But he wanted to get back in Max’s good graces. He figured it was the least he could do to start. “You make the first few cuts. If you need me to, I can take over when it gets more intricate.”

She looked over, eyebrow raised. “You sure about that?”

“Listen, Max. At some point, you’re gonna need to learn how dissect a cow eye yourself. It’s an essential life skill.”

She nodded sarcastically, “Oh, yeah. Right. If a cow’s dead in the field, how else will I determine the cause of death?”

“Max Mayfield, Detective for very specific cow-related crimes.”

She cracked a smile and picked up the scalpel. She hesitantly started the first incision. 

Mike felt bad for his initial treatment of Max. It hadn’t been anything against her, he had just been afraid that she’d try to replace El. That year, he hadn’t wanted anything more to change. Sometimes when he thought about the things he had said to her, he would inwardly cringe. 

Even after the events of that November and despite the fact that they shared a lot in common- they both had a wry sense of humor and love for the written word- they didn’t really talk much. That was until Max had started hanging out with El. She had made El feel welcome. She had sleepovers with her and offered her friendship different from what the guys could. 

Mike never felt right answering El’s questions about girl stuff. He could answer what he’d seen Nancy or his mom do and that didn’t feel like accurate knowledge. But Max answered her limitless questions with intrigue. She helped her navigate the harrowing hell that was girl cliques in high school. She had been there for El when she felt like giving up on school that first year. And all that had endeared Mike towards Max. He would always appreciate everything that she’d done for El. 

He watched Max carefully try to cut the layer of the eye. She was putting more pressure than needed and was gonna cut through it. 

“Max, hold on.”

She lifted the scalpel off and, looked at the ceiling in frustration. Max would often snap and her words were sharp. But you could tell he was a sensitivity there, too. Being able to do this mattered to her. 

She handed him the scalpel. “I’m just gonna fuck it up. You do it.”

But he didn’t take it. “No, Detective. You’re gonna learn how to do this. You need to trust the scalpel. It’s been sharpened enough to go through the layers without much pressure but you’re going at it like it’s a butter knife. Try it again.”

Max had a scowl on, as she went back to their specimen, “Fine, but if we get an F, it’s on you.”

“I think I’ll live.”

She lightly made the cut and peeled back the layer, “Did I go through the choroid?”

Mike examined the eye, “Nope. Just the sclera. You can start changing your title from detective to surgeon.”

Max smirked. It had taken Mike a while to accept her into the party, even after El. He held back because she changed the dynamic and Mike wasn’t good with change. But for the first few months, there were moments and she could see him opening up. She could see what drew Lucas, Will, Dustin, and El to him. He actually had a really big heart. It was his head that made him a jerk.

“Lucas is really hurt, Mike.” Max was still focused on cutting the next part and wasn’t looking at him but she could tell that he’d frozen up. “Not that he’d tell you, but he is.”

“I was gonna tell you guys.”

Max was quiet. “But you didn’t want to. That’s what hurts. You didn’t want to open up about it, but you did with Will.”

“I didn’t want to tell Will either. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

Max sighed. “You’ve always had this thing about the group. You’ve put your friendship with them up on this pedestal, like nothing can change about you or your friends without risking everything. It’s the way you were with Dungeons and Dragons. It’s the way you were with Will coming out. You try to preserve what your friendship was when you guys were 11, so that it stays the same. But that’s not what makes a good friendship. Friends adapt. They have to because life throws shit at you and it changes you. But as long as you keep the conversation going, as long as you don’t shut people out, friendships will adapt and last.”

Mike could be stubborn and dig his heels in at the worst of times. He wanted to counter everything she was saying. That he could accept change. That he was going to communicate, he just needed time. But he clenched his teeth and kept the bull-headed comments to himself. It was his turn to listen. Yet, something bothered him.

“How did I do that when Will came out?”

“You didn’t tell us for, what? A month? Two months?”

“It wasn’t 2 months. And it wasn’t my thing to tell. I mean, he didn’t tell his mom for just as long, and it wasn’t something I was going to push.” 

“But you never told them how he came out, did you?”

Mike’s face got white. How had she known? El must have told her. 

“At this point, it’s too late to tell them. And it would probably only add fuel to the fire. But what I’m saying- you have been closing yourself off for years with small things here and there. When things were going bad with El, Lucas had to fucking drag it out of you. How things were escalating. How her episodes were getting worse. You weren’t telling us. I could have been there for her, too.” At that, her voice changed. She got quiet. 

“You were there for her.”

“I thought I was. But I should have… There was more I could have done.” Max kept her eyes on the scalpel, her face tight. She swallowed hard, “You’re not the only one who misses her. I’d never had a friend like her before. I used to see girls on the playground braiding each other’s hair. I called it stupid and girly, but a part of me always wanted that. I was always seen as a tomboy so I never got to have it.” she shrugged, “But with El… she didn’t care. And it was like I got a redo. Because she never had much of a childhood so we got to do all those silly things together.”

“You know how much that meant to her, right? Whenever she’d talk about hanging out with you, she’d light up.”

Max looked at Mike, smiling sadly. “Thanks.”

They were quiet and started making notes on different parts of the eye, drawing out the diagram. 

Max offered, “I know that Lucas doesn’t like to talk about her. He just tries to pretend that she doesn’t exist, but you can talk about it with me. You know that, right?”

Mike nodded. “I want to apologize to him.”

She shook her head. “Not yet, Mike.”

“I don’t want more time to go by. I want to make it right.”

“I’ll pass along the message. I’ll tell him that I told you to stay back for now. But for God’s sake wait. Okay?”

Mike’s shoulders sank and he nodded. 

They passed the rest of the period, keeping their conversation to the lab work. When the bell rang, Mike watched Lucas pass him. The boys made eye contact for a moment and Mike was about to apologize but Lucas quickly turned his head and walked away.

The moment hadn’t escaped Will’s gaze and he saw Mike go hollow. Will approached his desk. 

Mike was torn between feeling comforted by wills presence and guilty for getting him involved.

Mike asked, “Is everything okay between you and Lucas?”

“Yeah. And I talked to him. He’s gonna be okay. He just needs time.”

Mike nodded. “Has Dustin talked to you at all?”

Will bit his lip and shook his head. Will had picked up on it then. Mike didn’t push it further.

Will offered, “Do you want to go to my place for a while? Get some homework done?” He didn’t want to leave him alone. He was afraid of what thoughts might cycle in Mike’s head and how he might try to silence them.


	27. The Repair

Mike and Will headed to their lockers. It was weird not meeting up with the others. They would usually end up shooting the shit for a while, waiting for the parking lot to clear up a bit. There was always a line of cars trying to get out. The boys grabbed their backpacks in silence and went out to Will’s old Pinto. Mike wasn’t driving this week, after getting grounded for his grades. Again.

Will caught Mike staring off, his eyes following Lucas and Dustin as they got into Max’s car. He could see the regret in Mike’s whole stature and wished there was something more he could do to fix it. He was so scared that this would push him farther back. They just needed to get through the rest of this day. Tomorrow Lucas would probably have cooled off and everything would be okay, at least, he hoped so.

Will ducked into the car and flipped through the cassettes in the glove compartment, looking for one that had raw emotion. Something viceral, to get Mike out of his head a bit. His hands hovered over the Canadian punk band again. Mike had liked it before, maybe it would help. But, thinking about it, Mike needed something to console, maybe The Cure would be better. He took “The Head on the Door” out, and popped it in. Then, he turned the key.

The engine sputtered but didn’t turn over. Will puffed his cheeks. Mike got in the passenger seat. 

“Your car okay?”

Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sometimes she just gets stubborn when it’s cold.” He was a little embarrassed. Mike’s car wasn’t necessarily new, but it was at least from this decade. He took the key out and tried again. But this time there was no noise at all. 

“Oh, God, no.” Will went from annoyed to panicked. His Pinto would sometimes sputter and but normally he could get it to turn over after a second or third try. But she always made a noise. Silence was bad. Silence meant there was a bigger problem. 

He tried again and still no noise. “Nononono, baby, come back.” He turned the key, “Come on!” 

Silence. “Fuck!”

Mike suggested, “Maybe it’s the gas?”

Will shook his head. “It can’t be. I put a quarter in yesterday.” 

“Let’s try popping the hood.”

Will nodded and they both got out. Will opened the hood. The boys gazed into the engine, completely mystified. Will tried to recall anything he had seen his dad or Hopper do with a car, but in all honesty, he’d never had an interest. Jonathan showed Will how to change the oil but that was about it. He had no idea how to actually fix one. Mike was equally clueless. His dad would go to the mechanic before opening up the hood himself. 

For the most part, none of their group really knew anything when it came to cars… except for Max. 

Mike looked over at the long line of cars pulling out of the parking lot. Max’s car was closer to the back of the line. He glanced at Will and could see the panic in his face. 

Mike said, “I’ll be right back.” Then, he ran off towards them. There was a sick feeling in his gut, of having to talk to Lucas so soon, but it was their only chance. And no matter how Lucas felt about him, he wouldn’t abandon Will. 

He ran up alongside Max’s window and knocked. She jumped and rolled down the window. “What the hell, Mike?”

Both Lucas and Dustin looked like they’d been in the middle of talking heatedly. Probably about him. His stomach churned.

Mike blurted, “Max, Will’s car won’t start.”

Lucas scowled, “Is this some ploy to get me to talk to you?”

“What? No, that’s stup-” Mike stopped his sass before it could fly out again, “No. The engine’s not turning over. Max, can you please just look at it?”

She looked over at Lucas, who suddenly seemed very focused on the dashboard, his arms crossed.

“Lucas?” She asked. She needed his okay. Will was Max’s friend too, but she didn’t want to get between them during this fight.

He exhaled through his nose and shut his eyes and nodded one time. Will’s car had some shit timing. But, of course they should. Will was still their friend, even if he never wanted to speak to Mike again. Lucas glared at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

“I know.” 

Max shifted the gear and they pulled out of the line and drove back towards Will. Mike walked behind the car. Max parked next to the Pinto and went around to the trunk. Will looked insanely relieved. 

“Max! Thank you so much!”

She grabbed a rag and tossed it over her shoulder. “Don’t thank me. I haven’t done anything yet. Do you know if your headlights turn on?”

“Umm, let me check.” He quickly turned on the lights and checked. He called back, “Nothing.”

She grabbed her gloves and a bucket of tools with some jumper cables sticking out. “Probably the battery, then.” 

Mike caught up to them. He saw Lucas and Dustin sitting in the car, awkwardly. He averted their eyes and joined Will at the front of the car.

Max went over to the hood and the boys scooted aside. She took one look and rolled her eyes. “It’s your battery terminals.”

Will seemed stunned. “How did you know that just by looking?!”

She shook her head, “It’s insane to me. You can cut a cow eye with the delicacy of an angel and build robots but you can’t figure out a car.” She pointed to the cables connected to the battery, which had a blue, corrosive film on them. “Does that look normal to you?” 

Will , “Oh. Oh. Um… no. i guess not.” 

She smirked. “Gonna cost you a lot.”

Will’s eyes widened, “How much?” He couldn’t take the car to the shop right now. Was he going to have to get it towed? The terminals were how the car was supposed to get jumped. There was no way she could hook up the cables to them if they were corroded. 

She raised an eyebrow. “50 cents. Go get a can of Coke from the vending machine.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“It’s a trick I learned. Just go grab one.”

Mike volunteered, “I got it.” The idea of sitting outside with Max, while Dustin and Lucas were in her car made him uneasy. 

He started heading back towards the school when he heard footsteps behind him. “Will, you don’t have to-”

He turned to see Lucas. Mike felt the color drain from his face.

“Mind if I come along?”

“Sure. I mean, umm, no problem.” 

They walked in silence. Mike was uncertain. He thought Lucas hadn’t been willing to speak to him. Did Dustin say something?

“Lucas, you probably don’t want to hear it but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.”

They caught the door as some more students filtered out and went back inside. Mike didn’t know what else he was supposed to say and he felt a plume of frustration. 

Mike asked, “If you don’t want an apology then what do you want.”

He mentally scolded himself. His words sounded so abrasive. 

Lucas snapped back, “All I want you to do is listen. Don’t say a goddamn thing. Just listen.”

Their footsteps echoed through the hall as they made their way down towards the cafeteria. 

Lucas huffed, “I’m not mad about the fight, Mike. I mean, I kind of am but I was just as ready to start it as you were. I’m mad that you lied. Maybe I’m stupid to think that rule still matters but I always thought we could get through anything if we were honest with each other.”

Mike nodded. “I know.” 

“Then, why’d you keep all this stuff secret?”

“I just. I hated being a burden. I hated dragging you, Dustin, and Max to those things.”

“But you didn’t have a problem dragging Will.”

“I didn’t want him to get involved either. He-”

“He found you, drunk off your ass, and about to walk however many blocks back to your house.”

Mike grimaced. They turned a corner and walked into the cafeteria. 

Lucas continued, “Mike. Will’s always gonna be that way. He gets involved. He gives too much. It’s what he does. You won’t realize how much it’s affecting him until it’s too late.”

Mike nodded. They got to the vending machine and he put in two quarters.

“I think the worst part about all this is that… it’s like I’m losing you. All this drinking and lying… you’re becoming something else, someone else. It was bad enough that she left but sometimes it feels like she took you too.”

Mike looked at him, stung by the words, and stunned at his mention of El. Lucas hadn’t talked about her in months.

Lucas‘s words rushed out, “I know I should listen more. I know you’ve needed to talk and I’ve only been angry every time you’ve brought up El. I thought that if you were angry, too, it would pull you out of this. That it’d help you move on.”

Mike pushed the button and the soda can clattered down the mechanism. He didn’t realize how much he’d wanted to talk about it. How good it felt to have Lucas actually say her name. It felt like a curse of silence had been broken. Mike picked up the can, slowly, trying to fight against whatever was holding his words back. Was it fear? 

He confessed, “I wish I knew how to. I don’t want to be this way. I look at Hopper and I’m terrified of becoming like him but... it’s the only way I stop thinking about her and feeling so guil...” His voice filled up like it was holding back a dam and he was barely keeping himself together. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand before he felt an arm wrap around him. 

“I’m sorry, Mike. I’m sorry.”

Mike choked on the sob he’d been holding in. It felt embarrassing, crying in front of Lucas. And Mike wondered when had he closed himself off.  
________________________________________

Max was scraping off as much of the corrosion as she could with a screwdriver. Dustin had migrated outside, leaning on the trunk, his arms crossed. Will kept stealing glances. Something was off. 

Max lectured Will, “After all this is off and we get your car started, get some petroleum jelly and put it around the cables. That should prevent corrosion from building up. When did you say you got this battery?”

“My brother put a new one in a little before he went off to college, I think.” 

“Then, you’re about due for one. But keeping the junk off it will help.”

He nodded. Then, he snuck a glance and caught Dustin’s eye, who looked away. 

Will didn’t like this silence. He knew Dustin wanted to say something. “Hey, Max. I’m gonna talk to Dustin real quick.”

“Oh, and leave me to do this work?” He couldn’t help but hear the concern in Max’s voice. She was covering up something. 

“I just need to talk to him.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Okay.” But she said it like, ‘be careful.’ 

Will approached Dustin. “Hey.”

He glanced over, “Hey.” 

Will leaned on the car alongside him. Dustin avoided his eyes, scuffing his shoe against the pavement.

“What are you doing, Will?”

“Trying to talk to you?”

“No, I mean with Mike.”

“I know that I shouldn’t have been driving him to those places. But he would have gotten there one way or another and I just… I just wanted to make sure he got home safe.”

Dustin asked, coldly, “Were you taking him home? Or to your house?”

Will’s mouth hung open. How was he supposed to answer? He had brought Mike to his house both times. Drunk. 

Dustin nodded, “Thought so.”

Will withered. Max had tried to warn him, but he hadn’t expected this. Did Dustin think he was trying to take advantage of Mike? Or was trying to coerce him? 

Will could barely speak, “It’s not like that.” He felt like he was going to throw up. Was this what Dustin thought of him? Did he really think he was capable of that? 

Dustin looked into Will’s face and saw the darkness. He could see him curling in on himself and he softened his tone. 

“Listen. I’m not accusing you of doing anything. That’s not what this is about. But you are being stupid. You shouldn’t be near him when he’s drunk and lonely. You can’t say no to him. And you want it more than you admit. So, just know your limits and stop.”

Will tasted the saliva at the back of his throat. He wanted the conversation to be over. He’d had it already so many times with himself. But to hear it from one of his best friends hurt and confirmed some of the worst things he’d told himself. 

“JESUS CHRIST! This fucking thing!”

Will shook himself out of it and came rushing over. “Max! You okay?”

“I’M FINE but your car is a fucking cocksucker!!” She held her finger. “Are they back, yet?”

Will looked around the car and saw Lucas and Mike walking alongside one another. The tension that had been so tangible an hour ago seemed to have disappear. The part that wasn’t twisted in knots relaxed. At least some good had come out of this. 

Mike reached them and held out the Coke to Max, who opened it and took a sip. 

Mike asked, “Did you just send me in cause you were thirsty?”

“No. But consider it a charge for labor. She then proceeded to pour some on the battery terminals. All the guys jumped. 

“Max!” “What are you doing?!” “Why?!” “The hell?!”

She took a small wire brush from the bucket. “Relax and watch the chemical reaction, boys.” 

They looked over at the carbonate fizz, dissolving the battery acid. She proceeded to scrub the terminals and wiped the area off with her rag. The guys watched Max in her element. She grabbed some water out of a jug and poured some on another, slightly cleaner rag. She wiped the area down, dried it, and reattached the cables. 

“Try starting it. I think it was just the corrosion but the battery could be dead.”

Will got in and turned the key. The Pinto sprang to life. 

Will yelled, “YES! OHMYGOD!” He immediately got out and hugged Max. “Thank you!!”

Max was not used to Will’s hugs, which were usually limited to victories in DnD and science fairs. She warned, “You’re gonna get oil on you.” 

“I don’t care.” He let go, “Thank you. I owe you. So much. Thank you.” 

“All right, rematch on Street Fighter.” 

Will smiled, “Done.” It was the only game he’d beaten her at and he had been putting off going against her, lest he lose his earned unofficial title.

Lucas looked back at Mike. “We still on for movies this Friday?”

Mike nodded. “Definitely.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lucas seemed lighter, hopeful. 

But as Mike looked around, he realized he felt lighter and a part of him felt more hopeful, too. He didn’t want to lose this. He had made a promise to Lucas inside and, in this moment, he felt like he could keep it.


	28. The Drive

Will sat on the step of his porch, his leg bouncing like crazy. He got up and started pacing. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. But then again, he thought, it didn’t matter if it was a bad idea. Mike was coming to pick him up whether he liked it or not. 

He went back in the house and grabbed his Walkman and headphones as well as his sketchbook, pencils, and a messenger bag to hold them both. He wanted to fill it with anything, everything that would distract him.

Will went back to wait on the porch. Mike wasn’t supposed to be there for another 10 minutes but Will couldn’t stay inside the house. He got his headphones on, threw in The Smiths, and pressed play. 

It was Saturday. Mike was going to be driving him to Indianapolis and taking him to a meeting for gay and lesbian teens. Will thought he’d feel more excited. But, in reality, his mind was coming up with a thousand and one ways everything could go wrong.

He turned up the volume to try to drown out the doubt. The guitar riffs in the song and Morrissey's voice were cathartic. This week, he had spent most of his time losing himself in his art or music, trying to calm down his nerves that were twisted up about either the meeting, Dustin, or about Mike. 

But mostly about Mike, who was trying everything to keep himself busy and away from his mom’s liquor cabinet. He had promised Lucas that he wouldn’t drink at all this week and weekend. But Mike didn’t seem to trust that he could keep himself away from the bottle without copious amounts of distractions. Lucas had carried the torch for most of the week, taking Mike to shoot footage with his video camera for the AV club. But in the quiet moments, Mike would call Will, or he’d ride over to his house. 

Will gladly gave Mike as much time as he needed. He listened, he distracted, and he comforted. But no matter how much he fought it, when Mike would go back home, Will’s thoughts wandered into daydreams of Mike. Small little things like having Mike’s head against his chest or tracing his fingers around his back. When these thoughts cropped up, he would quickly replace Mike with Morrissey. 

Needless to say, he listened to a lot of The Smiths that week. 

No matter how hard he tried, how much he reasoned with himself, he couldn’t wash away the feelings that refused to quit. He wanted Mike more than he could admit, just like Dustin had said, and Will had no idea what to do with himself. 

And as if the week hadn’t given him enough emotional turmoil… he had made the mistake of talking to June…  
___________________________________________

Will had laid on his bed, waiting for June’s response. He could hear him sigh, “Oh, sweetie…”

He gave a hollow laugh, “There’s no way he’s gay, right?” He meant it as a joke, but secretly hoped there might have been something to it.

June spoke sympathetically, “Most of the guys I have spoken to had dated girls before, but, in their relationships, they always felt like there was something off or missing, like you did with Angela. But nothing about Mike and Jane’s relationship seemed forced. I don’t think I saw a couple more in love than those two. Aside from us, of course.” He added, playfully.

Will shut his eyes. He could see the endless moments flicker before his eyes, like a movie: El and Mike gazing at each other, nuzzling, their effortless affection, the space they always seemed to share.

“I know. You’re right,” he said. 

“You just gotta get through a few more months. And then you’ll be out of that shithole and you’ll be in California. There are so much more of us here and out and not afraid to be out. You’ll be here with me and-” He caught himself and tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean... I don’t mean to assume… I know it… I don’t expect you to get back with me. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay, June.”  
________________________________________

It wasn’t. It only added to the brew simmering inside him. It brought up feelings that he wanted to bury under anger, resentment, but somehow couldn’t. He missed June. He missed being held and kissed and wanted in that way. He was completely undesirable to everyone here. He was always under the gaze of his peers, who looked at him with either curiousity or disgust. He wanted to get the hell out of Hawkins. 

He wanted to get out of his head. 

Despite how loud the music resonated in his ears, Will could hear the car pull up. He took off his headphones. His heart beat a little faster. A part of him was ecstatic to be spending nearly two hours in the car with Mike, sharing the air, talking, getting to steal glances, joke, and listen to music together. 

‘Am I really this pathetic?’ He thought. How in the hell was he supposed to ‘get through’ the next few months? Everyone made it sound so easy, like everyday didn’t hurt. How was he supposed to stop his heart from pounding every time he saw Mike? Distance. His mom had suggested. Space. Dustin had suggested. They were right. Maybe now that Lucas and Mike were okay again, he would try. After tonight.

The thought didn’t make him feel any better. 

“Will! Come on! We’re losing daylight!”

He nodded and headed over, bringing his messenger bag filled with the things he hoped would help him get through the night. He placed the bag by his feet as he got in.

Mike looked at the bag. “You plan on staying there?”

Will shook his head. “It’s just stuff, my sketchbook, cassettes…”

“What? Don’t trust my taste in music?”

Will closed the door and shook his head, “I trust you to put on anything with synthesizers. And I have a very strict one hour limit on those.”

“You love New Order and they have synthesizers!”

“New Order is on a completely different level than Bronski Beat, and you know it.”

Mike smiled and was beautiful. “Well, tell you what, we can roll for who gets to pick first.”

“You didn’t seriously bring dice with you.” 

Mike opened up the ashtray, devoid of any of its intended cargo and instead holding several different shapes and sizes of dice. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Will laughed loud. “Okay, sure. Let’s go. Evens.”

Mike rolled the die on the dashboard. “Five. Driver’s choice!” He pushed in a tape and Tears for Fears started playing. Mike smirked, victoriously. 

Will sat back. He liked the band really. He was a sucker for singers that had deep or soulful voices. “Alright. I’m picking on the way back though.”

“You’re gonna have to roll for it again.”

“Oh, come on, Mike!”

“We’ll let Fate decide at the next stop.”

“And when will that be?”

“You tell me, copilot. I mapped out how to get into the city and wrote down directions. They’re in the glove compartment.”

Will opened it up and pulled out the papers. He proceeded to give Mike directions as they headed out of Hawkins through the winding country roads. Will realized that they would have to figure out their way back in the dark. He mentally checked off yet another doubt. 

But this one he voiced, “You going to be alright driving back in the dark?”

“Yeah. Nancy took me to a few colleges in the city last summer, remember?” 

“Yeah, but it’s different when you're the one driving.”

Mike must have picked up on something in Will’s tone. He stole a glance, a mixture of suspicion and concern. He tried to put Will at ease, “I’ll be okay, Will.”

“Yeah.” Will suddenly felt overwhelmed. They were driving to the city, to go to a meeting at someone’s house. Not even a proper meeting place, like a library or church because it wasn’t a normal youth group. It was one that couldn’t be advertised without the threat of being targeted. And what if it wasn’t actually a support group but a way to lure teens into some creep’s basement? June had told him that some older men at the gay clubs looked for college kids so that they could “groom” them. What if that was what these people would try to do?

Oh, God, this was a mistake.

Will suggested, “Maybe we should go someplace else.”

Mike looked confused. “You mean afterwards?”

“No… I mean… what if we just wander around the city? Or maybe skip the city all together. We can go-”

“Are you serious?” 

Guilt dug into him. This was such an immensely kind gesture that Mike was doing for him and he was fucking it up. 

“Nevermind. I just… I’m… Nevermind. It’s fine.”

“No, come on. What’s up?”

Will breathed, “What if… what if this place isn’t legitimate? What if it is actually a conversion camp? Or if it’s some creeps who are trying to lure… people like me?”

“So… you’re saying… you think it’s a trap.”

Will opened his mouth and closed it. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

“You’re not. I get it. It probably seems super creepy to just show up at someone’s house when you’ve never met them. Would it help if I told you how I got the number? How I found them?”

Will said, “You told me. You called the suicide hotline.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t give me the number of the guys that run this thing. She gave me the number of a switchboard.”

“Like an operator switchboard?” Will highly doubted operators would be connecting people like him to anything remotely supportive.

“No. It’s basically a phone number with an answering machine and a bunch of volunteers take turns calling people back. It’s to help... gay people find stuff like reliable doctors, safe places to go… that kind of thing. The guy gave me the number for the youth group and I called them. It’s run by these two guys, Jeff and Chris. They’re partners. It’s their house we’re going to.” 

A part of Will’s fears subsided, yet he still wanted Mike to turn the car around and he didn’t know why. 

Mike asked, “Does that help at all?”

Will answered, “It does a little. But… I don’t think that’s really the reason why. I…” He looked at Mike, who was giving him such a heartfelt and concerned look. He was always there to listen. He was always there for him, no matter how bad things got. 

Suddenly, he knew why. “I think it’s because I keep holding up California as this place that will be so different than Hawkins, that it will be more out in the open. Safer. I keep hoping I’ll find a community of people that will accept me there, maybe someone to love. But I can’t help also feeling like I’m fooling myself. That I’m going there expecting gold when it’s still the same dirt, just different weather.”

The air in the car began to feel tight and, despite the cold, Will rolled down the window. 

Mike waited and Will continued. “But… I had a few months before I had to face that. Before I really had to worry about it. So… the fact that you found this group… it just has every doubt coming up now.”

Mike furrowed his eyebrows like he was trying hard to understand. “What is there to doubt?”

Will tried to rephrase but struggled with how to make himself understood. Finally, he admitted, “What if I go there and find out that I still don’t belong?”

“Why do you think you wouldn’t?”

Words echoed from old conversations with June; old spats. Their fights were more like June ranting and Will wishing his words didn’t get caught inside his throat. No sooner had he come up with a response to June’s tyraid, the conversation had moved on, Will’s words never voiced and his feelings, stifled. June had, at one point, chided him for being “straight-acting”. It had struck a nerve inside him, a doubt he hadn’t been able to put into words. He didn’t fit the mold for being gay. He didn’t belong. 

“June was so… He had this flair and presence. And he just…” Sometimes it seemed that he was so magnetic that he could adjust to any room he walked into. “I never felt like I fit in with him. And what if everybody there is like him? What if I’m still…” A freak. It had been the word on his tongue. He could hear it in his head, the way he had heard it on the block Halloween all those years ago. They were still carved inside him. 

Will wanted to go back home. He didn’t want to face these things. He wanted to stay up late, playing video games, watching movies, and hiding from these doubts until college. He didn’t want his questions answered, fearing they would prove all those negative thoughts right.

They sat in the car, listening to the sounds of the road. Mike looked like he was searching for answers. 

‘As if he has anything he could contribute,’ he thought, ‘What does he know?’ The tone in his head was bitter and he instantly regretted it.

Mike spoke honestly, “I have no idea how you’ll feel in there, Will. I have no idea what it’s going to be like. But these guys want to help. They’re reaching out. I can’t imagine why they would open their doors and let people in, just to judge them. At least give them the benefit of the doubt. And if you’re right… and everything you’re saying happens… you still have me. And you have Lucas and Max and Dustin. And your mom and Jonathan. And the girls in your art class… we’re your people, too. If the people in this youth group aren’t, then they are missing out, because you’re amazing.”

Will turned his face away to feel the wind on his face and to hopefully calm the red creeping to his face. He wondered, ‘Why do you have to be so perfect?’

“Thank you, Mike.” He said.

And then, there was that encouraging smile. Will knew he relied on it too much. He loved that smile, those face and lips too much. 

Mike waved a hand, “Alright. I’m turning off the synthesizers. We’re putting on Queen.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Will’s mouth. He popped out the tape and threw in Queen’s Jazz, which after a few remaining notes of the previous song started playing “Don’t Stop Me Now”. Mike cranked it up and both boys started singing at the top of their lungs. It felt like Will was forcing all that darkness out of him with every word and with each breath of cold air. He didn’t know how Mike managed to do this; to just make him feel at ease, to help him accept the worst outcome and know he could make it through.   
______________________________________

The anxious feeling was abated until Will had to switch to the handwritten directions. The sun had set and Will had to quickly read them at intersections and lights, memorizing and conveying them to Mike as they navigated through the city streets. 

When they pulled up to the address, Will stared at the tiny white house and watched a girl in dark, baggy clothes knock on the door. Mike put the car in park and turned the engine off. Will felt like a deer frozen in headlights. How had he been excited for this? How had he looked forward to this? How could he get back to that and make the gnawing in his stomach subside?

“Will, you ready?”

He turned back and saw Mike looking at him. He was patient and encouraging, more than Will could have ever asked for. Whether he was accepted by these new people or not, he had his friends and his family. They were his rock. He repeated Mike’s words to himself: he had his people already. His tribe could only grow from here.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”


	29. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of research went into this chapter (partially why it took so long). There are a few characters here that are fictionalizations of real people- Chris Gonzalez and his partner, Jeff Werner, ran Indianapolis’s first LGBT youth group out of their home. The Indiana Youth Group still runs today. There was a lot of other history that went into this chapter and I will leave some of my sources in the end notes. 
> 
> ALSO: TRIGGER WARNING During this youth group, there is mentions in this chapter of: eating disorders, transphobia, brief references to Will’s cutting, and body dysmorphia. I don’t go into graphic detail. But all the same, I will have the areas marked with asterisks: **** where it starts and ends. Please read carefully.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support! I hope you enjoy!

Will and Mike walked up the stoop to the door and rang the bell. Will tried to shake off the nerve. He just wanted to believe that he would be accepted but that ill feeling in his stomach remained. He kept going over best case, worst case, and reality in his head, trying to ground himself and keep his feet moving forward. 

The door opened to reveal a man who looked like he’d stepped straight out of Leave it to Beaver. He had coiffed, dusty blonde hair combined with a white sweater and collar underneath. Maybe they’d gone to the wrong house. 

The well-groomed man grinned, “Hi! Welcome to the Indiana Youth Group! I’m Jeff.” 

Mike spoke up, “Nice to meet you. I’m Mike and this is Will.” 

“I’m glad you could make it.” He had a kind smile, every inch welcoming and it helped to loosen the tightly wound up emotions inside Will. “Come on in! We’ve got some food in the kitchen. Help yourself. We’ll be getting started in a bit.”

The boys stepped inside and were immediately enveloped in a warm atmosphere along with the intoxicating smell of home cooked food. Will looked around at the polished living room. It wasn’t extravagant but well kept and was effortlessly cozy. The dining room chairs were arranged in the living room to make a big circle. Will thought, ‘That must be where we’ll talk.’ The very idea of talking with a group of strangers about this stuff made him squirm. He had only ever come out to people individually. But here, he’d be out to an entire group of people he’d never met before. 

Will gazed at them as they gathered in the kitchen, scooping piles of food onto their paper plates. They were all in their teens, some older, a few who looked younger with the exception for a round man with dark hair and a mustache, who was carrying something out from the oven. The scene immediately felt familiar, like being over someone’s house for Thanksgiving; as if this was a family and he was being invited in. 

Mike noticed the sudden ease in Will’s stature and was immensely relieved. The music and jokes in the car on the ride up had felt like trying to run from something that was at their heels. He wanted with every fiber of his being for this to be helpful. He wanted Will to have a place to feel like he belonged outside of their friend circles. He wanted to know that he’d be okay when they all went in their separate directions. Taking Will to this youth group was as much for his own peace of mind as he hoped it would be for Will.

They went up to the buffet table outside the kitchen and grabbed some paper plates. Next to the silverware and cups, there was a basket of individual, prepackaged foods like peanuts, cookies, and cheese-filled crackers. A tall wiry boy, with unkempt clothes was stuffing his pockets full of them. Will looked over, stunned, and the boy caught his eye. 

“What are you staring at pip squeak?” He snapped.

Will could feel Mike puff up beside him, ready to bite back with his own comment but a voice chimed in from behind. “Well, aren’t you in rare form today, Vince? Go eat your saltines and stop scaring the new kids.”

Vince glared at her and made his way to the chairs, full plate in hand.

Will turned to see a black girl with short hair twisted into tight locks. She had a round face that looked like she always had a smile ready, “Don’t worry about him. He’s been going through a lot but he’s not a bad guy. Name’s Aubrey.” 

“Hi. Thanks for jumping in. Um. I’m Will and this is Mike.”

“Hi.” Mike gave a small wave. 

Aubrey’s smile spread. “It’s nice to see new faces, to know word’s getting around.”

They nodded. 

“Well, I’m gonna let you guys get some food. Chris cooks up a mean meal.” She went over to the chairs where people were slowly beginning to sit down. 

Will and Mike went into the kitchen and started to fill their plates. Will could tell that it was supposed to be a taco bar but there were a lot of foods he didn’t quite recognize. 

A voice asked from behind them, “You ever have Mexican food before?”

Mike and Will turned to see the mustached man, with what looked like a plate of cooked corn husks. They stepped aside so the man could put the plate down. 

Mike said, “I went to Taco Bell once…”

The man wrinkled his nose, smirking, “Then, you haven’t had Mexican food. I didn’t make anything too spicy, except for the chorizo down at the end. These are the tamales, which is dough cooked in corn husk.” He gestured at the plate he had just put down. “They’re vegetarian, as are the empanadas. Just think of them like shepherd's pie but minus the meat.” 

“Sounds pretty good.” Will said, trying his best to sound polite. Both boys put the items, uncertainly, on their plates. 

The mustached man said, “I’m Chris, by the way.”

Mike’s face lit with recognition, “Oh! We spoke on the phone! I’m Mike.”

“Then, this must be…”

“Will.” He finished. 

“Well, Will. You’re very lucky to have a friend like Mike. It took me a long time to find friends who reached out like that.”

Mike suddenly seemed bashful. He looked away, holding back a smile, but Will could see it tugging at the corners.

Will shook Chris’s hand. “I know. I mean, thank you.” He was in awe of how quickly the anxious tugging inside himself had faded away. He was amazed how there were people that could do that; that could have such a presence that other worries dissipated. There were people who had these big open hearts and Will felt filled up with hope. 

Chris offered, “Let’s go have a seat, yeah?”

Will nodded and whispered to Mike, “In case I forget to tell you, thanks for bringing me here tonight.”

Mike’s grin spread, crinkling in ways that made Will melt, “Anytime.” 

They found two seats together and began to eat as a few more people came in and went to the kitchen. 

Mike gobbled down the empanadas, commenting, “Holy shit. These are amazing.”

Will silently agreed, his mouth too full to say anything further.

Chris put his plate down and spoke, “Alright, so we’re about to get started. To our new friends: welcome! A few ground rules you should know before we begin. First, this is a safe space, where we can express ourselves without judgement. Along with that, we take a vow of confidentiality. What is said in this room, does not leave this room.” He said this part firmly, seriously. 

Both boys nodded. Chris continued in a gentle tone, “You do not have to use your real names and you do not have to share. This is about having a place to be at ease. Along with that, if at any time someone is sharing something and it is affecting you, you do not have to stay. There are times where experiences may be difficult to listen to. You can leave the room if you need to. Don’t feel forced to stay if you feel uncomfortable. Okay?”

Will and Mike nodded again. 

“Then, let’s begin! Today, I want to open up with some exciting news. Aubrey, you have the floor.”

Aubrey sat a little taller, “Hi, I’m Aubrey. For those that may not know me, I am 20, a proud lesbian, and a Butler University bulldog. I have been talking to some friends of mine from Indiana University. They have a student union called OUT, where they organize and educate other students about LGBT issues. I’m trying to get one started at Butler as well. A few of us have gotten together to write a proposal to be a recognized organization. And we’re planning on doing something for the Pride Festival this year. Possibly doing a yard sale to fundraise for the club. We haven’t sorted anything out yet, but yeah. If anybody’s interested in helping out, let’s talk.”

Will blurted, “Pride Festival? Is it like a gay pride parade?”

She answered, “Sort of. But instead of a parade, it’s like a picnic outside. They’re talking about doing it at Westlake Park. They’ve had them for a while but they used to be in pubs and hidden. But last year they had it outside, in the open, and the experience was just so incredible. I can give you some more information after the meeting if you’d like.”

“Sure.” He felt overwhelmed. He thought pride parades only happened in places like New York or San Diego. He’d had photographs on his wall from the Gay Pride Parade in New York, photos courtesy of Jonathan. He’d wanted to go so badly. But it was hard enough for Jonathan to afford the plane ride back home for the holidays. A ticket to New York for something like that just wasn’t a luxury they could afford. But this festival was close, practically in his backyard. He could go and be surrounded by others like him. He could be out in the open. He thought, ‘June would have loved this.’ And quickly felt a pang of regret. They could have gone together last summer before June left for college, had he known. 

****

Will heard the next speaker begin but was lost in his thoughts until he heard the words, “treatment center”. Those had been words spoken by his therapist when he was at his worst with cutting. It had been the words circled on the open face of the Yellow Pages, when Joyce thought he wasn’t looking. He looked up at the woman… man… person… who was speaking.

Will could tell by their broad, boney shoulders that the person speaking was born a boy. But in every other way, this person affected the mannerisms and appearance of a woman. His eyes flicked over towards Mike, gaging his reaction. Mike looked like he was desperately trying to hide his discomfort and a part of Will felt embarrassed. Will thought, ‘Is this what he thinks I’ll end up like? A drag queen?’ 

He regretted the thought as soon as he’d had it. There was a part of Will that wanted to put as much distance between this person and himself as possible. He had been fighting against the stereotype of a drag queen for so long. People assumed that because he was gay, he liked dressing in women’s clothes. He wanted to shout at everybody, ‘I’m not like that!’ But then he looked at Chris, who’s face communicated nothing but empathy and support, and Will felt ashamed. This man had opened up his home to all of them. He didn’t judge them. He just wanted them to live. He just wanted to give them a space to be themselves. Will took a breath, and shoved away all the judgements his mind was trying to churn out. He silenced all the ways he was trying to distance himself, and instead listened to her story.

The woman speaking tucked some hair behind her ear. “My name’s Elaine and I’m transgender.” She looked directly at Mike, apparently recognizing his discomfort. There was a gentle tone, “Which, means that even though I was born a boy, there hasn’t been a day that I’ve felt like one. So, if you ever reference me, please use she/ her pronouns and call me a girl because that’s who I really am.” Her eyes looked over at Will as well. And he felt like he was looking at someone much older, who had seen so much more hurt and pain. 

She turned her eyes to the rest of the group as she continued, “I know I haven’t been around for a while. It was because I was at a treatment center, what basically amounts to rehab for people with anorexia and bulimia.

“When I talked to the people there, I realized that it’s something I’ll have to live with every day of my fucking life. Eventually, the voice may dull a bit. Instead of having a raging bitch screaming at me to starve myself, I’ll just have a crotchy bastard that mumbles that I shouldn’t have eaten that. But right now, I have the raging bitch. 

“And my aunt, who I have been living with since Mom kicked me out, has this grand solution of getting rid of every mirror in the fucking house. Which is stupid and so beyond frustrating because it’s not seeing myself that makes me feel fat. It’s being in my body that makes me feel fat and...” She focused her gaze at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears in. “And on top of that… I have this… I...” 

Tears began streaming down her face. “It’s like feeling you’re covered in something you can’t wash off. I know that I use eating to change the only part of my body I can control, but knowing that doesn’t make a difference. I still hate every meal my aunt makes for me. I still hate how she refuses to let me use the bathroom for at least an hour after eating. I mean, it’s not like she’s being militant about it. She’s trying so hard.” 

Her voice broke. “She has me sit next to her on the couch and she wraps an arm around me, while we watch TV. But I hate that fucking hour of waiting, knowing things are digesting, that the fat is distributing while she’s holding me. I just want to enjoy being with her. I want to soak up that love because sometimes it feels like she’s the only one who cares about me. But I can’t cause my stupid brain won’t shut the fuck up.” 

She began to sob and Aubrey wrapped her up in an embrace. “It’s okay, Elaine.”

The moment felt so private. Mike felt like such an outsider. He didn’t belong here. He shouldn’t have been watching or listening. He glanced at Will and wondered… was it the same for cutting? Was there a voice that would forever be trying to get Will to cut again? There was a sense of defeat in that notion. He had no way to save Will from it. All he could do was be there, to listen and hold him like Aubrey was, and it made him feel so helpless.

****

Chris spoke up, “We’ve had a lot of friends who have been through what you have, Elaine. It isn’t easy and it’s a long road, but recovery is possible. Loving your body is a tough thing right now, so instead focus on loving the other wonderful things that make you the beautiful person that you are.”

Aubrey added, “Like that stunning ability to make magic happen with a needle and thread.” She kept her embraced with one arm around her shoulder. Elaina wiped off her smeared makeup. 

Another girl dressed in baggy, dark clothes added, “Or the incredible ability to write a 6 page research paper in one night.”

Elaine chuckled and leaned into the hug. “That was luck and desperation and you know it.” 

Will wanted to offer comfort, but the words were caught in his throat. This was private, he told himself, and he had no place to say something anyway.

People around the room continued to share. People opened up about how they were recovering from bad habits they’d picked up while trying to cope. How they were trying to repair damaged relationships, or trying to come out. They expressed fear of rejection from their loved ones, fear of losing their jobs if people found out, the weight of keeping so much of themselves suppressed and hidden. As they talked, Will felt like there was a web weaving them all together, connecting them. He had been terrified to contribute but now, he felt compelled to reach out, to open up the way they had. 

Jeff had just tried to coax Vince into talking, but he shook his head, his arms crossed. 

Chris’s eyes looked over to Will and asked with a simple, questioning nod of his head. 

“Hi, umm… I’m Will. I…” Suddenly he had no idea what to say. He closed his eyes, feeling a little lightheaded, and steadied his breath. He had only ever talked about these things with his friends and family. But now he was in a room full of strangers. 

Then, without warning, there was a moment of contact. Mike had put his hand on Will’s. And the first thought that came to mind was “Count to three.” The three second rule. Didn’t Mike understand what it would look like if he held his hand? Wasn’t he worried people would think he was gay? 

****

His father’s voice echoed in his mind. ‘...You want people to think you’re a fag?’ 

He heaved a breath without getting air and realized he was on the cusp of hyperventilating. He forced himself to calm down. His eyes flicked over to his friend. Mike looked at him in such a way that he was okay with waiting. He would be there for him if he spoke or if he wanted to turn tail and leave right then.

Will’s voice shook. “I’ve got it lucky.” He immediately regretted starting like that but he plowed forward, “My ex used to say that a lot. And I know he’s right. The only person I lost when I came out was my father but he’d left years ago. So, that came as no surprise... “ He said sarcastically. 

His mouth twitched, “Before he left, I thought the world of him, even though I always felt like a disappointment. I could never hit the ball. I could never shoot the target. I was a sissy. I was a… I was an affectionate kid.” Will gestured towards Mike, “We used to play this game when we were little and had way too much energy. We would try to out-hug each other. Hugging until we practically squeezed the air out of the other.” A small smile passed across his face at the memory. “First one to squeak lost.” Will stared at the ground, remembering. “But then, when my dad saw us… ,” Will swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. 

He continued “He’d said, ‘Boys don’t hug like that. You want people to think you’re a fag?’” The word felt sour in his mouth. “I had no idea what that word meant but the way he spat it… the look of disgust on his face… I’d never felt more worthless. After that, I stopped playing that game and I watched my dad with his friends, waiting to see them hug, so I could learn. The hugs were always quick, no more than 3 seconds. And so from then on, that was my rule. I’d count the seconds in my head when I’d hug my friends until I forgot I was doing it.”

****

He looked around at the room and could see in the other boys’ eyes the recognition, the empathy. They’d all felt that at some point, their affection towards their friends stifled, their expression of their emotion a sign of emasculation. His eye caught Mike’s and he saw heartbreak.

Mike couldn’t believe it. He’d remembered that moment. He remembered Will running and hiding under his bed, tear-stricken at those words. He remembered holding him while Will cried under the bed, suddenly afraid that the small gesture was wrong. He remembered how infuriated his own mom got when he’d asked what that word had meant. He remembered the confusion that remained when she never actually explained the word’s meaning. 

Every affection between them had been stifled because of that bastard. His words had impacted their relationship in such a subtle yet invasive way. 

Will saw the look on Mike’s face and immediately regretted opening up. Why that story? Had it really been worth it? Opening up something that was so personal?

Chris responded, “Many of us have felt that pressure in one way or another. We’ve all felt that stifling, that suppression. We’ve been raised with an expectation that we can’t show emotion or affection without giving up our masculinity. We are taught to adhere to the social rules as if they are set in stone. But they aren’t. There are countries where a kiss on the cheek is a normal greeting between men. The rules can be changed. And it happens slowly, but it is possible and it can be done. Just know that you aren’t alone in having that experience. In feeling that way.”

Will nodded absent-mindedly. It had felt so good to say the story out loud, when he’d been telling it. This room felt like the only place he could have said it. He had felt the weight lifted off his shoulders. But now, he felt exposed. He would have to drive home and Mike would know. It wouldn’t stay in this room. It would carry on. Mike would know it in every hug, how much he’d let his father affect him. He would know how much he had wanted that affection and how long it had been there: That desire to hold him. 

He had been so happy to have Mike there, but now he regretted it. Now he wanted to hide. As much as he wanted to run out of the room, he didn’t want to make a scene. So he stayed. 

He heard other people speaking and he waited for a moment to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. When the moment came, he stood up and got to the hallway. The door outside called to him. He didn’t want to shut himself inside a small room. He wanted to run. He wanted to get out. 

So, as quietly as he could, he opened the front door and stepped outside. The chill air rushed to greet him, whipping against his face. He felt trapped. He didn’t want to go back inside. But a shiver ran through him. The night wind was unkind to his woes. He braced himself and ran to the car and shut the door. And let everything pour out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my sources:
> 
> Pride parade 1987: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-brzz58xCs
> 
> Indy Pride Festival: https://indypride.org/about/history/ 
> 
> Indiana Youth Group:  
> http://www.indianayouthgroup.org 
> 
> https://www.nuvo.net/news/happy-birthday-indiana-youth-group/article_95cfeced-c167-54a8-b763-dcb907479fc3.html 
> 
> OUT at Indiana University: https://200.iu.edu/history/timelines/lgbtq-accessible.html


	30. A New Arrangement

Will shut the door of the passenger side and he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Every emotion from that week started pouring out of him and he doubled over, sobbing. The meeting had been like releasing the floodgates and every feeling was spilling over. He wanted to be home, where he could cry alone; where he could pour his tears out until there were none left. 

He had never told anybody about that moment. Not Jonathan or his mom. But it had been something that had shaped him, in such a fundamental way. It had invaded his every friendship. He wanted to be furious at his father. He wanted to scream until there was nothing of his voice left. He was so frustrated with himself for letting Lonnie have that much power.

As soon as his anger started to burn white hot, it cooled as the gears in his head began turning that anger back towards himself. Why had he said anything? His fingers clutched his hair. Now Mike knew. He would know everytime that they hugged. He’d know that he had let his father’s words change their friendship. He had been so happy to have Mike beside him at the meeting, but now he felt exposed. He couldn’t go back in. He couldn’t face Mike after what he’d said. 

As if the week hadn’t been difficult enough. At every turn he had been fighting off daydreams about Mike. He had been trying to suppress the memory of Mike’s lips on his, the feeling of his hand on his back, the warmth of his breath. He had tried so hard to convince his heart to stop wishing for things it couldn’t have. To want more from Mike than friendship. 

And now, he’d confessed more than he should have. He had tainted the only affection really allowed between them with the memory of that day. It would be a shadow on every hug. Mike would know he was counting. Maybe he’d even be counting himself. Will crumpled.

He let out a wail, like a child’s cry, back before he learned to quiet his tears. Back when a cry was open and loud, when cries meant “find me”, “help me”. 

“Will?!” Mike said from outside the car. 

Will froze. He didn’t move. He didn’t lift up his head. He had hoped for more time. He realized the stupidity of it. Of course Mike would check on him. And he had no way of hiding his red puffy eyes. He couldn’t take back the sob Mike had heard. 

He heard the door open and close and felt the space in the car occupied with Mike’s warmth. Will was terrified of what else he might say to Mike. He felt like he was unravelling and he couldn’t stitch himself back together. He didn’t want to lift himself up but he felt Mike’s hand on his back. He turned to look at his friend’s sympathetic face. Mike’s hand move to his shoulder, holding him steady while his other hand lay open, beckoning Will to sit up, to let himself be held. 

“It’s okay, Will.”

Will couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He threw his arms around Mike and let himself collapse in his embrace, feeling like a child. A sob shook through him. His hands clutched the back of Mike’s shirt, like he was the only thing keeping him from drowning. All week he had been fighting off the idea of being this close to Mike again. He had been suppressing those old hopes that had resurfaced, trying to convince himself that he didn’t want this. But there was nothing he wanted more. 

He counted in his head again. He knew it had been more than 3 seconds. He had to let go, the way he had for years. It used to be instinctive, but now he had drawn attention to it. He had to count again. But when Will dropped his arms down, Mike held on still.

Mike whispered into Will’s hair, “You know you don’t have to count with me, right?”

Another sob broke through. “Yes I do. You more than anyone else.” He tried to sit up but Mike didn’t let go and Will cried into his shoulder. “This whole week I’ve been trying to forget about what happened Saturday, but I can’t. And I keep trying but I don’t know how to make things go back to normal!”

Mike felt at a loss. Will’s tears were soaking his shirt and he had no idea how to fix this. He had opened something up in Will when he’d kissed him. It had been naive of him to think that they could just keep acting like things were normal. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? But in reality, he had just been pretending it didn’t happen and leaving Will to pick up the pieces; to suffer through the feelings on his own. Max had been right. He had tried so hard to keep things the way they had always been. But in doing so, he had turned a blind eye to something that had been affecting Will for years. He didn’t know how they could move forward from here.

Will took a shaky breath. There he was, in Mike’s arms again. It would keep happening as long as they remained close. Will knew he had to suggest it- giving each other space. But that took strength as well as resolve. He had no desire to ask for space. He didn’t even want to leave Mike’s arms. He hated how much his body had relaxed in the embrace. He hated that despite how much he was crying that he didn’t want this moment to end because it meant letting him go.

Mike’s hand rested on Will’s back, holding him. A thought tugged at Mike. A solution that he wasn’t certain would actually help. What if it just made things worse? But he had no other ideas. His voice quietly suggested, “Maybe… maybe we stop trying for normal…” 

Will blinked, uncertain of what he heard and not understanding its meaning. “What?” He tried to sit up and, this time, Mike let him. 

Mike’s long fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his sleeve. He wasn’t looking at Will. He searched for the words. What was he actually trying to say? How could he say it? He didn’t know how to phrase what he was offering and kept rearranging the words in his head. 

“We tried making things go back to ‘normal’ when you came out. But… we were really just pretending it didn’t happen. So… maybe we could be something… in between.” 

Will looked at him, confused but patiently waited for him to continue. 

Mike tried again, “We were both affectionate kids and we weren’t allowed to be. So, what if we just… if we’re affectionate... with each other?” His heart leapt in his chest. The words were out but from the look of confusion on Will’s face, the meaning hadn’t been grasped. 

“You mean, like hugging?”

“Yeah. Consider the 3 second limit suspended from all present and future hugs.” 

Will couldn’t make sense of what Mike was offering. There was a weight to Mike’s words that didn’t add up to his suggestion. Did he really just mean hugging? 

Mike’s voice shook a little. He bit his lip. He’d have to be clearer but he felt so awkward. “And… I mean all the other little things, too. The small stuff… the hand holding, and just...” He couldn’t stand how limited his words felt, how far short they felt. So, he brushed some strands of Will’s hair, that were damp from tears, out of his face. “When you need it... Just… If it’s something you want…”. 

Will could barely breathe. He felt like his head was spinning. What was happening? What was he saying? Will had to be wrong. Mistaken. But there was nothing to misinterpret. Mike had essentially caressed his face. Will’s heart was pounding. He could hear it in his ears. 

Mike was offering contact, affection, intimacy. But a thought cut through, trying to make sense of it all. ‘It’s because he pities you. Because of everything you said in there.’ The thought hurt, but… if it was true… Mike would cringe at his touch. He wouldn’t actually want it. Another part of him, hopeful, reasoned, ‘He kissed you when he was drunk. A part of him wants this too.’ Will decided to test it. He’d allow himself to caress him back. If he didn’t want it, there would be physical cues. Will would see it and know the offer was made out of pity. 

He reached a hand towards Mike’s hair that had, overtime, turned wavy and, sometimes even curly. Will felt terrified at the notion of such contact. But he steeled himself and searched Mike’s face for a reaction as his hand slid into the locks of hair at his temple. 

Mike hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, waiting for his response, until Will’s hand was in his hair. A small shaking gasp brought back air into his lungs. He could feel Will’s fingers holding his head, his thumb caressing his cheek. It felt so good to be held, to be touched. He had missed allowing himself to be so vulnerable. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Will’s hand. Mike didn’t care how intimate it was. There were wonderful ripples of electricity coursing through him. He felt his entire body relax under Will’s touch. 

Will felt happiness radiate through like a warm light. He was holding Mike’s head in his hand. He was sober and letting Will hold him. He looked into Mike’s face and saw contentment. Will couldn’t hold the smile from his face. It felt like a dream.

But he had to be sure. “You’re really okay with this?” His thumb traced Mike’s cheek.

Mike opened his eyes. He saw Will with his tear streaked cheeks and puffy eyes but he looked lighter and happier than he’d seen him in a long time. It felt like he’d done something right. Like he had finally helped. But a realization spread across him like a shadow in his mind. 

He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to ruin this moment. But he couldn’t lie to Will. He had to be honest or it would hurt Will worse. “I am but… if El comes back… I…”

Will nodded, “I know. I never questioned that.”

Mike looked relieved, then concern flickered over his face, “You’re okay with that?”

Will wondered if he really would be. A part of him knew the ache that would lay ahead. He would fall even deeper than he already had. He knew Mike could never love him like that and it hurt. He could hear the dark mutterings inside himself. They would try to pull him, drag him back to cutting, back to self hatred. They would try to kill him. 

And, yet… 

He’d have someone to lean on. He’d be allowed to hold him, to be this close. To run his fingers through his hair, trace the curve of his arms. Things he hadn’t allowed himself to even dream would be within reach. All he’d have to do is ask.

Maybe being wrapped in Mike’s arms could be worth it, worth fighting the voices. Worth all the hurt and pain he knew would come. 

“I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I have written 30 chapters! This scene is something precious to me. It was an essential core to the story and I am so happy to finally share it with you. Thank you for all your kind and lovely comments, your kudos, and support! <3333\. I can't thank you enough.


	31. The Drive Back

Mike held Will against him and although the wind whistled against the car, they felt warmer than they had in ages, as if something had thawed. Will lost track of the seconds. He wanted to stay that way forever, to let the world pass by as he listened to Mike’s soft breaths, watching his chest rise and fall. To always feel the gentle rhythm of Mike’s hand as it travelled in circles on his back.

Mike closed his eyes and just let Will’s presence fill him up in a completely new way. The smell of him; of Head and Shoulders and discount brand deodorant, of that stale cigarette smell which wove its way into his entire house, yet mixed with that fresh air smell of Mirkwood, and underneath all that was Will’s own smell. It was all familiar but had always been at a distance, never this close. 

There was a part of him that felt a twinge of it all being taboo, strange, and wrong to hold his friend like this. It wasn’t what boys did. Mike heard the echoes of Lonnie from that day and then from his own father when he’d caught them getting makeovers (courtesy of Nancy and Barb). The words that cut. That distanced them. That shaped them.

He held Will a little tighter and thought, ‘Fuck them.’

But eventually, despite how close they held each other, the cold wind crept into the car and a shiver ran through Will. 

Mike looked down at him, “I should probably turn the car on.”

Will sat up and looked back at the house. He saw people waving as they walked out the door. He’d missed the rest of the meeting. His shoulders sank. “I should have gone back in…”

Mike turned the car on. “It’s okay, Will.”

“No, it’s not. I just ditched them. I-”

“Will, this was a lot. You’re not really the type to open up like that. But you did. That was huge.”

Will looked at the house as the front light turned off.

Mike comforted, “I talked to Chris before I left. He said it’s normal. He completely understands. If you really feel bad, we can make something to bring next time, like mac and cheese or maybe brownies. I mean, if you want to go again.”

Will whipped his head around, “Of course I do!”

Mike smiled, “Then, that’s all there is to it.”

Will still felt a little guilty and it exhausted him. His emotions were all over the place tonight. “Can we go home?”

Mike nodded and shifted the car into gear. Will got out the directions, and spent the next 20 minutes squinting at street signs and trying to get out of the city. Once they were back on the main highway, the car grew quiet. 

Will had been wondering since they left how Mike felt about coming to the meeting. Although Will had basically laid out all his feelings to an entire group of people, he had no idea how Mike had felt about anything that they’d heard. 

“So… I didn’t get to ask you. How did you feel about the meeting?”

Mike thought, ‘Ignorant. Clueless. Scared for you.’ 

Mike sighed, “I had no idea what other people went through. How some of them were just completely disowned by their family. Cut off. That’s… I didn’t realize just how much they- and you- have to hide. I mean I knew, but just… I didn’t grasp it.”

“June always used to say how lucky I was. I didn’t lose any friends after coming out. I still have my mom and my brother. I’m grateful for that. I mean, even Hopper, as macho as he is… I was so scared. But then, when he found out, the man took me to the gym to teach me how to box.” He then attempted a Hopper impersonation, “So, you’ll know what to do the next time somebody calls you ‘fag.’ ” 

Mike gave Will the side eye. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to sound like Hopper?”

Will glared, mockingly. “Piss off.” But he laughed.

Mike stared at the road, getting lost in thought. Will would always have road blocks. He’d always have to worry about the wrong people finding out. It would be something he’d have to keep a secret when he got a job. 

Will continued, “When I was in there, a part of me felt like, I shouldn’t say anything. But there was just something about being in there that made me want to open up. It was kind of crazy.”

Mike nodded, “There was definitely something magnetic about it. Even I wanted to say something. It wasn’t really my place, though.” Despite the fact that Chris had invited him to share, Mike didn’t feel like he should.

Will turned, “What did you want to say?”

Mike hesitated, “I mean, after your story, I realized just how much that stuff had bothered me. Like, well… do you remember that one time that Nancy caught us going through her stuff?”

“Which time?”

“Dress up.”

Will laughed at the memory, “Oh God, yeah! She chased us around the house and decided she wanted a sister instead.” 

Mike smirked, “For that one day, I became ‘Michelle’.”

Will snorted, struck by a memory, and suddenly found he couldn’t stop snickering. “Those tiny fucking pigtails!”

Mike remembered looking into the mirror in horror as his sister had somehow managed to take both his and Will’s small mops of hair and shove them into pigtails. Although the whole ordeal had been to ‘punish’ Mike for going into her room, he had let her put him in a dress and brush his hair and glob on mounds of Lip Smackers. He sort of liked the attention, despite how much he’d grumbled while it was happening. At some point, it had become like playing a game. 

Mike was thoroughly enjoying watching Will light up like this. He teased, “And I believe you were… Wilma?”

This set Will into another peel of laughter. Tears began streaming down his cheeks. “Stop! You’re killing me!” 

Mike smiled at the memory. Even though what followed had been twinged with hurt, he didn’t let it affect the good parts of that day. 

Will wiped his eyes, recovering. He noticed how quiet the car was, how Mike was staring at the road. And he realized why Mike had wanted to share that moment. “You wanted to talk about your dad, didn’t you?” 

The words still hurt Mike, even after all the years. The sharpness of his father’s tone when his he’d walked in and barked, “What are you doing?! Nancy, get that ridiculous stuff off of them. Boys do NOT wear dresses!” It was less the words and more about the tone. The disappointment, the disgust. A boy dressing or acting like a girl was wrong. 

Mike sighed, “Yeah. But I guess everybody has that moment.” 

Will itched to reach out, to hold Mike’s hand to comfort him, but held back. He didn’t know if it would seem be weird. He tried to weigh the action. Would he have done that before? Was he just doing because he could now? It added another reason for him to second guess himself. Their new arrangement had changed the dynamics and Will wondered how long it would take for them to readjust. 

Will replied, “I never knew it affected you that much. I mean, I knew you were upset when it happened but it was… I don’t know… All I remember is, the next time we hung out, you got out Nancy’s dresses and we started jumping down the stairs trying to make them puff out like in Alice in Wonderland.”

Mike blinked, “I forgot about that…”

“Yeah. You always had this stubborn streak. You didn’t let things stop you. I don’t think we ever wore her dresses again but it was like you didn’t want what he said to be the reason why. You just have that way about you. I’ve always admired it.”

Mike’s mouth tugged at the corners in a bashful smile. “Thanks.”

As the highway stretched before them, Mike turned on the radio. None of the normal stations were in range so he offered, “You want to pick out the music this time?”

Will smiled, “YES!”

He flipped through the tapes in his messenger bag and pulled out The Ramones’ Rocket to Russia tape. He threw it in and “Cretin Hop” started blasting. Mike bobbed his head as the music blared. 

Somehow, they had managed to slip back into their friendship, as if nothing had changed. Will was surprised and relieved that it had been so easy. Maybe it would just be like this. Maybe they could just have moments where they held each other and then moments where everything still be the same. Maybe nothing had to change at all. He really hoped that was the case.


	32. The Sleepover

The car rolled up the driveway, wheels crushing rocks into the soil. Will was teetering between nervous and excited. He didn’t want to let himself hope for more, but he couldn’t help it. When he wasn’t feeling that excitement, the anxiety took a turn gnawing at him. Maybe Mike wouldn’t want to sleepover now with their new arrangement. Maybe it would make things weird. Should they sleep in separate rooms now? He tried silencing all that and coached himself to take everything one moment at a time. 

When they got inside, Will saw a note left on the table: ‘Putting in some extra hours tonight. Made some casserole. Please make sure you eat! Call me when you get home. I can’t wait to hear all about the meeting! Love you, Mom’

Will went to the phone and called her up. He knew she had taken the extra hours to give him space and to busy herself. She did try in her own way to give him some independence, but she usually had to occupy herself to do it. He called her at the bar, the relief in her voice was immediate. 

She asked, “Is Mike there with you?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“Is he staying the night?”

“Ummm, let me check.” He covered up the phone. “Did you want to stay the night, Mike?”

Mike’s eyebrows furrowed, for a moment surprised at the question. They had already agreed to it. But the events of the night required a lot of things to be renegotiated, didn’t they? They would have to redefine what was okay. But sleepovers were something Mike wasn’t willing to give up. He had already decided that. He nodded.

Will turned back to the phone, a little more relaxed, “Yeah. He’s staying the night, Mom.”

“Okay, baby. I might be a little late tonight. I…um... Hopper’s here and…” He needed someone to drive him home.

“It’s okay, Mom. Take your time.” It hurt to watch how close they had come to being one, big, happy family. 

Joyce, Jonathan, and Will had been a happy family in their own way, but when Hopper and Jane had been there, it felt like some missing piece had been filled. Will saw love and affection the way it was supposed to be. How his mom and Hopper would be side by side, making breakfast. The small moments where they’d lean on each other; or how he’d scoop her up to dance when Fleetwood Mac came on; how Hopper actually looked at her when they talked and listened.

Jonathan had once confided to Will that the only reason he had been able to leave for New York was because he knew Hopper would take care of them both. Now, Will was supposed to be getting ready to leave for college too, but that meant leaving their mom alone. He and Jonathan were all she had and they’d both be gone. Hopper was only a shadow these days.

Joyce’s voice was warm and grateful, “Thank you so much. I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, Mom.”

He hung up the phone and looked over at Mike, who looked concerned. Will was suddenly aware of his own expression. He hated how his face was like an open book.

“Is everything okay?” Mike asked.

Will bit his lip. He couldn’t hide it. There was no point now. “It’s… my mom’s going to be late tonight… She’s taking care of Hopper.”

Mike’s eyes fell to the table. He felt guilty. Hopper had been just as hurt by El leaving. But Mike had avoided him. Hopper was drowning himself in liquor. Mike didn’t want to admit how similar they were because it scared him. He glanced at Will. Mike knew how much Hopper had been like a father to Will. He’d been to a few of their Sunday breakfasts at the house. It was a tradition that sprung up when Hopper and Joyce started dating. Mike saw how happy Will was, how much lighter the house seemed to be. Hopper went from this rigid “bring her home by 8” guy into a big kid, goofing around with Mrs. Byers’ while they cooked up eggs and pancakes. He’d seen her have this look of love in her eyes, of being completely smitten. They were all hurt by El leaving and, now, by Hopper’s drinking.

Mike offered, “Maybe… we should go see him tomorrow? Make him some breakfast. I’m sure he misses those.”

Will looked at Mike, unbelieving andimmensely grateful, “You would do that?”

“Of course.” Mike answered. And just like that, Will’s worried face softened into a content happiness. Mike loved being able to do that.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” Will answered. 

The two were quiet. Mike didn’t want to think about the breakfast anymore. He didn’t want to think about what it would feel like without El there. Mike looked around the room, hoping to change the subject to something lighter. He saw the TV. 

“Hey, you down for a Movie Night?” 

“Definitely.”

Mike wandered over to the videocassettes in the cabinet under the TV. 

Will followed, “Are we going to roll to decide the movie?”

Mike’s fingers hovered over a clear plastic case. He read the label and smirked. 

He turned, “Not tonight. Because we are watching THIS!” Mike held up a blank VHS that had a label with a scrawled writing.

Will got closer. Years ago, Bob had shown Will the wonders of recording shows from the TV. He used to record movies he otherwise could not afford, but nowadays he used them to record random scenes that he used for references for his artwork. Once close enough Will realized just what the label said. 

‘The Last Unicorn.’

“JESUSCHRIST! NO! WHERE DID YOU FIND THAT?!?!” Will tried to snatch it from Mike’s hand but he quickly stood up and held it above his head.

“Oh no! We’re watching it!”

Will tried to jump up to grab it but Mike’s limbs were insanely long and he missed. “Please no! I was just testing out how to record! It was a test!” He realized how high and panicked his voice had gotten. He tried sounding assertive. “We’re not watching that!” It didn’t work.

“Well, not to pull out the guilt card, but I did drive four hours tonight, so I think I should get to pick the movie.”

Will rubbed his temples, his cheeks now a bright shade of red. “You’re trying to torture me.”

Mike smiled, “Maybe a little.” He looked at the cassette. “I haven’t seen this in years. We saw this for Erica’s birthday, didn’t we?”

“She tricked us into seeing it, if you remember.”

“Well, admittedly, we were trying to get her to see ‘The Dark Crystal’. The plan was doomed to fail from the beginning.” 

Mike snuck himself over to the VCR, half expecting Will to tackle him. But Will admitted defeat and plopped himself on the couch. Mike grinned, smugly, and popped it in. He grabbed the remote and sat down. 

Will prepared himself for an endless roast throughout the movie. This was so embarrassing. In truth, he had secretly enjoyed the movie when they’d watched it in the theaters. It reminded him of The Hobbit in a lot of ways.

The first clip to light up the TV screen was a Wisk commercial, followed by a few others before the movie actually started. 

Years ago, Will had been ecstatic when he’d seen The Last Unicorn in the TV Guide. He hadn’t seen it since it was in theaters, and it wasn’t something he would ever rent or buy. God forbid one of his friends ever found out, just as Mike had. But there was something enchanting about the movie. He wanted to have it in some form. It had become his go-to movie when he was sick. 

The movie finally started and Will waited with a knot in his stomach for the teasing to commence. After a few moments of animated forest background, two hunters appeared on the screen, discussing the majesty of the place. It sounded a bit like the dialogue they would’ve used in a campaign.

One hunter called out, “Stay where you are, poor beast. This is no world for you. Stay in your forest and keep your trees green and your friends protected. And good luck to you, for you are the last.”

Will stole a glance. Mike’s eyebrows were raised, seemingly surprised. 

Mike noticed. “Okay. I forgot how good the start was. Don’t judge. The only thing I really remember is the boob tree.” 

Will snorted. “Understandable. That scene is atrocious.”

The title scene rolled up and Will was ecstatic that Mike actually seemed interested.

Then, the butterfly started singing and Will sunk into the couch, cringing. Mike slowly turned to Will, whose face was burning.

“Okay, okay! The butterfly and the tree are the worst parts but the rest of the movie is really good!”

Mike settled back into the couch, gloating. He didn’t tease Will any further. But he liked having this secret information about Will’s guilty pleasure. And as the movie played, he actually found himself enthralled with the scenes and characters.

They continued to watch the movie. When the next set of commercials came, Will stood up, stretching, “Popcorn?” Mike nodded. They went to the kitchen and Will got out the bowl and popcorn bag. 

Mike leaned on the table. “You know, it isn’t fair how we just missed this stuff.”

Will looked back curiously, as he put in the bag and set the timer on the microwave. “What do you mean?”

“We would have been watching this movie on repeat if we had it when we were 8. It would have been on par with The Sword in the Stone or Robin Hood.”

Will nodded, leaning on the table beside Mike. “Yeah. But admittedly, we definitely would have fought over who would play Schmendrick.” 

Will watched the popcorn, trying not to think about how close their hands were. 

Mike said, “I probably would have let you, though.” 

Will cocked an eyebrow at that. “Listen, nice as you are, let’s be honest about who always got first dibs on the characters.”

“Oh, come on.”

Will pointed, “Okay, Venkman. Paladin. Dungeon Master. Who ended up leading most of the games?”

Mike put his hands up in defeat, knowing Will was right. “Okay. Okay.” When he placed them back on the counter, their hands accidently touched. 

Will’s heart leapt in his chest. His eyes darted to Mike’s, whose eyes flicked ahead, embarrassed. But Mike’s hand stayed. In fact, his pinky hesitantly moved over Will’s. 

Will’s breath shook. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Was this okay? Did Mike actually want this? He looked over and saw Mike’s normally alabaster skin was glowing pink. Will hesitantly slid his hand under Mike’s. He looked up, to gage his reaction. 

For a moment, there was a hint of a shy smile but then Will could see a shadow pass over Mike’s expression. Mike squeezed Will’s hand and Will could tell from the pressure something was wrong. 

Will asked, “You okay?”

His voice faltered, “It’s… I don’t… It’s just stuff I don’t want to think about right now.”

Will wished Mike would open up, but he didn’t push. He gently squeezed Mike’s hand back. Mike tucked his head under Will’s chin and against his shoulder. Will let his cheek nestle into the waves of Mike’s hair.

Mike sniffed, and for a moment, Will thought he was crying. But then, Mike asked, “Is that the popcorn?”

Will recognized the burnt smell and jumped up. “Fuck!” He quickly opened the microwave door, dismayed. 

“Dammit!” he exclaimed. 

Mike opened up the steaming bag. “Ehh. It’s just the bottom. It’s still salvageable.”

Will questioned, “Salvageable? It’s burnt. The whole bag’s ruined.”

“Well, lucky for you, I consider singed popcorn a delacy. Because I never burn it.”

Will took a dish cloth and tossed it at Mike, who chuckled. 

He poured the popcorn in a bowl and looked over at the TV. “I think we missed part of the movie.” 

“We can always just rewind it.” 

“Yeah.”

There was a timid silence. Will wondered again how they would balance this thing between them. Even though it had been mere seconds ago, Will craved the closeness again. He mentally scolded himself for being so greedy. Why did he still want more? Why couldn’t he just be happy to have the scattered moments of affection? Maybe it was the uncertainty of it. Not knowing when they would touch again from one minute to the next. 

Mike broke the silence, asking, “So… would you want to… umm… okay, full disclaimer this is kind of a ridiculous request and you can say no.”

Inside Will was screaming. He faked a calm exterior, “Go ahead.” 

“Do you want to build a fort?”

The question surprised Will but he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. He remembered all the years of trying to create castles from bedding. They would use insane amounts of blankets, pillows, and furniture to create the ultimate hideaway (at least for the few hours that it remained standing). He remembered all the close whisperings beneath the covers; of spy missions they needed to complete, of scary stories told under flashlight, of secrets and crossed hearts promising to take them to the grave.

Will smirked, “Hell, yeah! We have actual experience with building things, now.” 

“Are you counting the toothpick and marshmallow bridge we made in science as building experience?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I meant I have actual building experience,” Will gloated. 

“Anytime your brother talks about building Castle Byers, he talks about how bad you were at it!”

“Bad experience is still experience.”

Will lead the way to his bedroom, grabbing the sleeping bag, pillows, and extra blankets from his closet. Mike helped carry their building materials to the living room. They proceeded to drape blankets across the backs of chairs. Mike tucked corners into the couch cushions for stability. Will tied yarn tassels on the crocheted blankets around corners of other blankets to join them together. They let the movie play in the background while they continued to make fabric tunnels and cushioned the area by the TV with their sleeping bags. 

Will and Mike would peak up at each other, collaborating on how many blankets were left, where they could put them, and how to attach all the layers. Finally, they stood back and admired their work, a bit of laughter in their cheeks at the childish pride of it all. 

“It looks pretty good.” Mike admitted. “Should we test it out?”

Will snickered, “Sure.” They crawled under and sat beneath their creation. Will felt like a giant beneath the blankets. Their forts seemed taller in his memories, but then again, so did most things. He looked over at Mike, who had a beautiful, laughing grin at the ridiculousness of all of it. Will was enjoying every second of it. He didn’t quite want to stop yet. So, when he saw the way the front was drooping, he decided to fix it. “I think I’m gonna raise this up a bit so we can see the TV better.”

But upon trying to fix the corner, the blanket fell on him and Mike laughed, “So much for structural integrity.” 

He crawled over and helped Will reattach it. Will watched their fingers work together to try and secure it again. He felt like he was underwater or in a dream. His hands felt slower, clumsier. Did Mike know how close they were? The blanket was draped over them both and they were sharing the air. Couldn’t he feel this, too? 

Once the blanket was reattached, Mike suggested, “Maybe we don’t push our luck and just let it be.” When he looked at Will, he suddenly realized how quiet it was, how close they were, how warm it was beneath the blanket. 

They were inches away from each other. Mike could see Will holding his breath. Mike didn’t know what to do. Would it still be pretending if he just ignored it? Would it be crossing a line to kiss him? Would it make things worse? 

He’d let Will decide. He could hear his own voice shake a little. “You can, if you want to.”

Will looked at Mike’s lips for a brief moment. He couldn’t quite believe what he was offering. He felt his skin ignite under the suggestion. How could he say no? He knew he should. But he’d dreamt about it for so long. 

A voice inside him reasoned, ‘It would be too far. Do you even know if Mike’s really comfortable with this?’ 

He took in all of Mike’s being and could see he wasn’t. Mike was offering for the wrong reasons. It was out of pity. Will shook his head slightly and Mike looked panicked, suddenly embarrassed at his own suggestion. He could almost hear the sorry caught in his throat.

So, Will blurted out an offer of his own, “Maybe we could just… cuddle?” Will could feel the heat rushing to his ears at hearing his own words. He immediately felt stupid and mad at himself. 

But the breath returned to Mike and his hair flopped as nodded. And Will was insanely relieved. Mike scooted over to the couch, leaning against it and Will followed. Hesitantly, he laid his head on Mike’s shoulder and Will’s heart practically leap out of his chest as Mike’s long arm wrapped around him. 

Despite how much he loved this, the awkwardness hadn’t yet faded, as Will didn’t seem to know where to put his hand. His one was tucked between he and Mike, propping him up somewhat, but the other hand had no place to go, so after a moment of quietly fidgeting with it, he settled for resting it on his leg. But it felt uncomfortable and he felt flustered. When he tried to stealthily move his hand again, Mike just took it in his and laid their hands, clasped, on his chest. 

Will felt like he was going to die. Either of bliss or embarrassment. Maybe both.

The scarlet color of his cheeks burned, as Will realized they were cuddled up together watching The Last Unicorn. This had to be so weird for Mike.

“Do you want to watch a different movie?” Will offered. 

Will could feel Mike shake his head, “Too late. I’m invested in the story now.”

He was genuine. There was nothing in his tone that rang of the humiliation he thought Mike was feeling and it put Will at ease. They settled into one another. The awkwardness slowly faded and they took comfort in the contact. 

When the credits rolled, Mike raised his arms and stretched. Will bolted over to the VHS player and popped out the tape. “I’m picking the next movie.” 

Mike shrugged. “‘Kay.” Mike was quiet. Will really hope it was just his post movie-contemplation quiet and not a regretful or awkward one. Will wondered how long he’d keep second guessing every interaction. 

Mike thought out loud, “I think the movie’s about possession.”

Will looked back, holding up his copy of The Amityville Horror. “Yeah. That’s kind of the whole point.”

“No, I mean The Last Unicorn.”

Will sat on his knees, interested. Half the reason he loved watching movies with the party was listening to their after-movie discussions. They’d pick apart their favorite scenes, recapping and analyzing why the director did one thing or another.

Mike continued, “Everyone was trying to claim someone. Fortuna with the harpy. King Lear with the unicorns. And Schmendrick with magic.”

Will looked puzzled. “How was he possessive over magic? He told it to ‘Do as you will.’”

“Yeah. And that’s the only time it worked.”

Will nodded. “Makes sense. Do you think the unicorn is supposed to be representing someone? Maybe nature?”

”Maybe. But I think it’s more like… like nobody should belong to anybody else.”

“Even at the end, when Schmendrick and Molly are going someplace. He asks her and she says, ‘I will.’ I can’t believe I never picked up on that.” 

“ Yeah you’d think after watching it 40 times-”

Will rolled his eyes, not even bothering to argue the numbers. He gestured at his copy of Soylent Green, smiling. “Ready for something a little more palatable?” 

Mike glared, recognizing the terrible joke. 

Will shouted, “Soylent Green is people!” 

“Okay. You actually need to pick something.” 

Mike rubbed his eyes and Will’s stomach churned. What were they going to do about the sleeping situation? 

“Do you want to just call it a night?” Will asked.

“Nah, I’m still good.” 

But Will didn’t want to put off the conversation any longer. “....Where did you want to sleep tonight?” 

Mike looked around at their creation, sighing, “We’d have to take down the fort, wouldn’t we?”

Will nodded, remorsefully. 

“Let’s leave it up for the night. We already have the sleeping bags set up. We could just stay the night out here.”

Will was glad for his long sleeves or Mike would have seen the hair on his arms stand up. They hadn’t slept so close in ages. And after their arrangement, after everything, he was really okay with sleeping next to him? 

Will shrugged. “Okay.” He didn’t want to make a big deal about it. Mike wasn’t making a big deal and it felt good. It felt like they were 10 again. Before Will had really begun to question. Before the awkward tensions. Before all the nightmares. When they were just kids sharing a space for the night. Will got back to focusing on selecting a video. 

Aliens was the final winner.

“Really? Right before bed?” Mike asked. 

“Do you not sleep better after watching Ripley kick some xenomorphic ass?”

Mike shook his head and got into his sleeping bag, laying down on his stomach. Will followed suit. They’re bags were close but with a comfortable space away. 

Will hadn’t quite realized how tired he was until he laid down. He rested his chin on his hands and tried desperately to keep his eyes open. But everything that had transpired that night left physically and emotionally exhausted. He didn’t even get to see them land on the colony before he was out cold. 

Mike watched Will sleep. The quiet sighs, the rise and fall of his back, the peaceful look on his face. Something swelled inside Mike- a desire to protect. After everything they’d been through, he just wanted to see Will happy. He just wanted him to be okay. And he wanted to do whatever it took to make that happen. 

He knew this whole thing had the potential to hurt Will more than help. But Mike didn’t want to give it up. 

“Will?” He whispered. 

Will’s rhythmic breaths were the only answer.

Mike confessed, “I’m sorry if this hurts you in the end. I’m sorry if I’m being selfish for wanting this.” He waited for Will but there was no response. So he laid his head down on his pillow and watched Will sleep. He closed his eyes and fell asleep listening to the hum of the tape, the chords of the movie score, and Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it’s been nearly a month crafting this chapter on and off. Thank you for your patience! I’m hoping to bring this story to a close before the next season because ‘One summer can change everything.’ I’m sure you are all just as excited (and possibly terrified) as I am. ((‘Everything?!?’ What do you mean ‘everything’?!?!)). As always thank you for your patience, readership, comments, and kudos!!! <3


	33. One Year Anniversary

Hi!!

So thank you my lovely readers! And, no, I did not publish another chapter within 48 hours. (Sorry. This story just takes too much brain power for that to be possible. lol) To celebrate one year of me consistently writing (and When She Left's first birthday) I will be taking requests/ prompts for drabbles! They will be about 250-500 words. I will have my ask box and this open for about a week. My schedule is about to get crazy so I will finish as many as I can before the next chapter. 

Please either comment below with a prompt or go to my Tumblr and type in the ask box: https://junigatsu84.tumblr.com/ask

Thank you again for all your time, kinds words, and kudos. You are all so lovely and I can't thank you enough! 

~Val


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